Liui\mvi  w  i  mnuLium 

TH 

JUL  2  9  2003 

iRY 

EOLOGICAL  SEMIN/ 

Ex  Libris 

Cat  and  Henry  H.  Bucher 


DT  425  . A343  1923 
Akeley,  Carl  Ethan,  1864- 
1926. 

In  brightest  Africa 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


https://archive.org/details/inbrightestafric00akel_0 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


ON  A  TYPICAL  ELEPHANT  TRAIL  IN  THE  FOREST 


CARL  E.  AKELEY 

IN 

BRIGHTEST 

AFRICA 


Memorial  Edition 


JUL  2  9  2003 


GARDEN  CITY,  NEW  YORK 
GARDEN  CITY  PUBLISHING  CO.,  INC 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  1921,  1922,  I923>  BY  DOUBLE¬ 
DAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY.  ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 
PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  AT  THE 
COUNTRY  LIFE  PRESS,  GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


TO 

THE  MEMORY 
OF 

THEODORE  ROOSEVELT 


“He  that  hath  drunk  of  Africa's  fountains , 
will  drink  again." 


— Old  Arab  Proverb 


FOREWORD 


I  HAVE  written  this  Foreword,  not  after  reading 
the  manuscript  of  the  volume  thoroughly,  but 
after  a  quarter  of  a  century  acquaintance  with 
the  experiences,  thoughts,  and  ideals  of  the  author 
himself.  This  is  the  daybook,  the  diary,  the  narra¬ 
tive,  the  incident,  and  the  adventure  of  an  African 
sculptor  and  an  African  biographer,  whose  observa¬ 
tions  we  hope  may  be  preserved  in  imperishable  form, 
so  that  when  the  animal  life  of  Africa  has  vanished, 
future  generations  may  realize  in  some  degree  the 
beauty  and  grandeur  which  the  world  has  lost. 

Sculptor  and  Biographer  of  the  vanishing  wild 
life  of  Africa — I  do  not  feel  that  I  can  adequately  and 
truthfully  characterize  Carl  E.  Akeley  better  than 
in  these  words.  I  have  always  maintained  that  he 
was  a  sculptor,  that  sculpture  was  his  real  vocation, 
in  which  taxidermy  was  an  incidental  element.  The 
sculptor  is  a  biographer  and  an  historian.  Without 
sculpture  we  should  know  far  less  of  the  vanished 
greatness  of  Greece  than  we  do.  Through  sculpture 
Carl  E.  Akeley  is  recording  the  vanishing  greatness 
of  the  natural  world  of  Africa.  We  palaeontologists 
alone  realize  that  in  Africa  the  remnants  of  all  the 
royal  families  of  the  Age  of  Mammals  are  making 

it 


FOREWORD 


•  • 

Xll 

virtues.  For  this  untruthful  picture  Akeley  substi¬ 
tutes  a  real  gorilla,  chiefly  a  quadruped  in  locomo¬ 
tion,  not  seeking  combat  with  man,  ferocious  only 
when  his  family  rights  are  invaded,  benign  rather 
than  malignant  in  countenance.  Thus  he  explodes 
the  age-long  gorilla  myth  and  we  learn  for  the  first 
time  the  place  in  nature  of  this  great  anthropoid  and 
come  to  believe  that  it  should  be  conserved  and 
protected  rather  than  eliminated.  In  other  words, 
the  author  shows  that  there  are  good  grounds  for  the 
international  movement  to  conserve  the  few  remain¬ 
ing  tribes  of  the  gorilla. 

Akeley  has  come  into  closest  touch  with  all  these 
animals  in  turn,  even  at  great  personal  risk,  always 
leaving  with  increased  rather  than  diminished  admi¬ 
ration  for  them.  This  quality  of  truthfulness,  com¬ 
bined  with  his  love  of  beauty  of  the  animal  form — 
beauty  of  hide,  of  muscle,  of  bone,  of  facial  expres¬ 
sion — will  give  permanence  to  Akeley’s  work,  and 
permanence  will  be  the  sure  test  of  its  greatness. 

Henry  Fairfield  Osborn. 

July  27,  1923. 

American  Museum. 


CONTENTS 


PAGB 


CHAPTER 

I.  A  New  Art  Begun .  i 

II.  Elephant  Friends  and  Foes  ....  20 

III.  My  Acquaintance  with  Lions  .  .  .  >58 

IV.  Hunting  the  African  Buffalo  .  82 

V.  Leopards  and  Rhinos  ......  94 

t 

VI.  Along  the  Trail . 111 

VII.  Bill . 131 

VIII.  Safari  Hunters . 148 

IX.  Inventions  and  Warfare . 164 

X.  A  Taxidermist  as  a  Sculptor  .  .  .  175  ' 

XI.  Hunting  Gorillas  in  Central  Africa  .  188 

XII.  Adventures  on  Mt.  Mikeno  .  .  .211 

XIII.  The  Lone  Male  of  Karisimbi  .  .  .  225 

XIV.  Is  the  Gorilla  Almost  a  Man?  .  .  .  236 


XV.  Roosevelt  African  Hall — A  Record  for 

the  Future . .  .  251 


XUl 


LIST  OF  LINE  DRAWINGS 


Map  of  the  Elephant  Country 

Sketch  Indicating  Mr.  Akeley*s  Movements 
During  Encounter  with  Leopard 

Map  Showing  Mr.  Akeley’s  Route  to  Gorilla 
Country . 

Map  Showing  Location  of  Three  Mountains, 
Mikeno,  Karisimbi,  and  Visoke 

Plan  of  the  Main  Floor  and  Gallery  of  Roose¬ 
velt  African  Hall  . 

• . 

A  Section  of  the  “Annex”  Containing  Habitat 
Gr°ups  . 


PAGE 

34 

98 

199 

IT] 

255 
2 59 


- 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


CHAPTER  I 

A  NEW  ART  BEGUN 

4  S  A  boy  I  lived  on  a  farm  near  Clarendon, 

/  %  Orleans  County,  N.  Y.,  and  for  some  reason, 
jL  jL.  about  the  time  I  was  thirteen,  I  got  interested 
in  birds.  I  was  out  of  place  on  the  farm  for  I  was 
much  more  interested  in  taxidermy  than  in  farming. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  by  the  time  I  was  sixteen  I  an¬ 
nounced  to  the  world  that  I  was  a  taxidermist.  I  had 
borrowed  a  book  which  had  originally  cost  a  dollar, 
and  from  that  book  I  learned  taxidermy  up  to  a  point 
where  I  felt  justified  in  having  business  cards  printed 
stating  that  I  did  artistic  taxidermy  in  all  its  branches.  1 
I  even  went  so  far  as  to  take  several  lessons  in  pain  tv 
ing  from  a  lady  who  taught  art  in  Clarendon,  in  order 
that  I  might  paint  realistic  backgrounds  behind  the 
birds  that  I  mounted.  So  far  as  I  know,  that  was  the 
first  experiment  of  painted  backgrounds  used  for 
mounted  birds  or  animals.  I  believe  that  my  first 
attempt  in  this  direction  is  still  in  existence  in  Claren¬ 
don  but  I  have  been  a  little  afraid  to  go  to  see  it. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  in  which  I  was  nineteen,  after 
the  crops  were  in,  I  set  out  to  get  a  wider  field  for  my 


1 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


efforts.  There  was  at  that  time  in  the  neighbouring 
town  of  Brockport  an  Englishman  named  David 
Bruce,  whose  hobby  was  taxidermy.  By  calling  he 
was  a  painter  and  interior  decorator — a  very  skilful 
craftsman  who  did  special  work  far  and  wide  through 
the  country.  As  a  recreation  he  mounted  birds  and 
animals  for  sportsmen.  His  office  was  filled  with 
birds  in  cases  and  he  was  surrounded  with  other 
evidences  of  his  hobby. 

To  me  it  seemed  that  he  led  an  ideal  life,  for  he  had 
a  successful  business  and  one  that  gave  him  enough 
spare  time  to  indulge  his  fancies  in  taxidermy.  It 
hadn’t  entered  my  head  at  the  time  that  a  man  could 
make  a  living  at  anything  as  fascinating  as  taxidermy, 
so  I  felt  that  the  best  possible  solution  of  the  problem 
was  that  which  Mr.  Bruce  had  devised.  I  went  to 
see  if  I  could  get  a  job  with  him  in  his  decorating 
business  in  order  that  I  might  also  be  with  him  in  his 
hobby.  He  was  most  kindly  and  cordial.  I  remem¬ 
ber  that  he  took  me  out  and  bought  me  an  oyster 
stew  and  told  me,  while  we  were  eating,  that  if  I  came 
with  him  he  would  teach  me  all  his  trade  secrets  in 
painting  and  decorating,  which  he  had  kept  even  from 
his  workmen.  It  seemed  to  me  that  a  glorious  future 
was  settled  for  me  then  and  there.  If  I  was  not  in 
the  seventh  heaven,  I  was  at  least  in  the  fifth  or  sixth 
and  going  up,  and  then  my  prospects  became  so 
favourable  as  to  become  almost  terrifying.  Mr. 
Bruce,  after  having  made  me  such  alluring  offers  to 
come  with  him,  said  that  he  thought  I  ought  to  go  to 
a  m^ch  better  place  than  his  shop — a  place  where  I 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN 


3 

might  actually  make  a  living  at  taxidermy.  In 
Rochester  there  was  a  famous  institution,  Ward’s 
Natural  Science  Establishment.  At  that  time,  and 
for  years  afterward,  this  establishment  supplied  the 
best  museums  in  this  country  with  nearly  all  their 
mounted  specimens  and  also  most  of  their  other 
natural  history  collections.  Professor  Ward  was  the 
greatest  authority  on  taxidermy  of  his  day.  It  was 
to  this  place  that  Bruce  suggested  I  should  go.  The 
step  which  he  planned  seemed  a  great  venture  to 
me,  but  I  determined  to  try  it.  I  went  home  from 
Brockport  and  told  the  family  what  Bruce  had  said 
and  what  I  intended  to  do.  I  got  up  early  next  morn¬ 
ing — I  didn’t  have  to  wake  up  for  I  had  hardly  slept 
a  wink — and  walked  three  miles  to  the  station  to  take 
the  train  to  Rochester.  When  I  reached  there,  I 
walked  all  over  town  before  I  found  Ward’s  Natural 
Science  Establishment  and  the  more  I  walked  the 
lower  and  lower  my  courage  sank.  The  Establish¬ 
ment  consisted  of  Professor  Ward’s  house  and  several 
other  buildings,  the  entrance  to  the  place  being  an  1 
arch  made  of  the  jaws  of  a  sperm  whale.  An  ap^ 
prentice  approaching  the  studio  of  a  Rembrandt  or  a 
Van  Dyke  couldn’t  have  been  more  in  awe  than 
I  was.  I  walked  up  and  down  the  sidewalk  in  front 
of  the  Professor’s  house  for  a  while  until  I  finally 
gathered  courage  to  ring  the  door-bell.  I  was  ad¬ 
mitted  to  an  elaborately  furnished  room,  and  after 
a  little  while  Professor  Ward  came  in.  It  had  been 
a  long  time  since  I  had  had  breakfast,  but  he  hadn’t 
quite  finished  his,  and  this  contrast  seemed  to  increase 


4  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

my  disadvantages  in  his  presence.  Moreover,  Pro¬ 
fessor  Ward  was  always  very  busy  and  very  brusque 
and  was  a  very  fierce  man.  Not  even  when  a  leopard 
spmrig  on  me  in  Africa  have  I  had  a  worse  moment 
than  when  this  little  man  snapped  out,  “What  do  vou 
want?” 

The  last  vestige  of  my  pride  and  assurance  was 
centred  on  my  business  card,  and  without  a  word  1 
handed  him  this  evidence  of  my  skill  and  art  as  a 
taxidermist.  The  card  seemed  to  justify  my  belief 
in  it,  for  the  great  man  asked  me  when  I  could  go  to 
work  and  offered  me  the  munificent  sum  of  $3.50  a 
week.  I  discovered  a  boarding  house  where  I  could 
get  a  room  and  my  meals  for  $4  a  week  and  on  this 
basis  I  began  to  learn  the  art  of  taxidermy  and  to  run 
through  my  slender  resources. 

The  art  of  taxidermy  as  practised  at  Ward’s  Nat¬ 
ural  Science  Establishment  in  those  days  was  very 
simple.  To  stuff  a  deer,  for  example,  we  treated  the 
skin  with  salt,  alum,  and  arsenical  soap.  Then  the 
bones  were  wired  and  wrapped  and  put  in  his  legs  and 
he  was  hung,  upside  down,  and  the  body  stuffed 
with  straw  until  it  would  hold  no  more  If  then  we 
wished  to  thin  the  body  at  any  point,  we  sewed 
through  it  with  a  long  needle  and  drew  it  in.  Now 
to  do  this,  no  knowledge  of  the  animal’s  anatomy  or 
of  anything  else  about  it  was  necessary.  There  was 
but  little  attempt  to  put  the  animals  in  natural 
attitudes;  no  attempt  at  grouping,  and  no  accessories 
in  the  shape  of  trees  or  other  surroundings.  The 
profession  I  had  chosen  as  the  most  satisfying  and 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN  5 

stimulating  to  a  man’s  soul  turned  out  at  that  time 
to  have  very  little  science  and  no  art  at  all. 

The  reason  for  this  was  not  so  much  that  no  one 
knew  better.  It  was  more  the  fact  that  no  one  would 
pay  for  better  work.  Professor  Ward  had  to  set  a 
price  on  his  work  that  the  museums  would  pay,  and 
at  that  time  most  museums  were  interested  almost 
exclusively  in  the  collection  of  purely  scientific  data 
and  cared  little  for  exhibitions  that  would  appeal  to 
the  public.  They  preferred  collections  of  birds’  skins 
to  bird  groups,  and  collections  of  mammal  data  and 
skeletons  to  mammal  groups.  The  museums  then 
had  no  taxidermists  of  their  own. 

However,  many  of  the  prominent  museum  men  of 
to-day  had  their  early  training  at  Ward’s  Natural 
Science  Establishment.  Soon  after  I  went  to  Ward’s 
another  nineteen-year-old  boy  named  William  Mor¬ 
ton  Wheeler,  now  of  the  Bussey  Institution  at  Har¬ 
vard,  turned  up  there.  E.  N.  Gueret,  now  in  charge 
of  the  Division  of  Osteology  in  the  Field  Museum  of 
Natural  History,  George  K.  Cherrie,  the  South  k 
American  explorer;  the  late  J.  William  Critchley,  who 
became  the  chief  taxidermist  in  the  Brooklyn  Museum 
of  Arts  and  Sciences;  Henry  L.  Ward,  director  of  the 
Kent  Scientific  Museum  in  Grand  Rapids;  H.  C. 
Denslow,  an  artist  formerly  associated  with  several 
of  the  leading  museums  as  bird  taxidermist;  William 
T.  Hornaday,  director  of  the  New  York  Zoological 
Park,  and  Frederick  S.  Webster,  who  was  the  first 
president  of  the  Society  of  American  Taxidermists, 
were  all  among  the  friends  I  made  in  those  early  days. 


6 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

A  long  list  of  others,  not  my  contemporaries  at  that 
institution,  but  men  with  whom  I  have  since  been 
associated  in  museum  work,  might  be  added.  Dr. 
Frederic  A.  Lucas  had  left  Ward’s  shortly  before  my 
arrival  to  take  up  his  duties  at  the  Smithsonian  In¬ 
stitution  but  I  came  to  feel  that  I  knew  him  very  well 
through  the  stories  and  reminiscences  of  my  com¬ 
panions.  It  was  not  until  my  return  from  my  third 
expedition  in  1911  that  my  delightful  association  with 
him  as  the  director  of  the  American  Museum  of  Nat¬ 
ural  History  was  begun. 

I  have  a  theory  that  the  first  museum  taxidermist 
came  into  existence  in  about  this  way:  One  of  our 
dear  old  friends,  some  old-fashioned  closet  naturalist 
who  knew  animals  only  as  dried  skins  and  had  been 
getting  funds  from  some  kind-hearted  philanthropist, 
one  day,  under  pressure  from  the  philanthropist,  who 
wanted  something  on  exhibition  to  show  his  friends, 
sent  around  the  corner  and  called  in  an  upholsterer 
and  said,  “Here  is  the  skin  of  an  animal.  Stuff  this 
thing  and  make  it  look  like  a  live  animal.”  The 
upholsterer  did  it  and  kept  on  doing  it  until  the  scien¬ 
tist  had  a  little  more  money.  Given  more  work  the 
upholsterer  became  ambitious  and  had  an  idea  that 
these  animals  might  be  improved  upon,  so  he  began  to 
do  better  work.  But  it  took  more  time  and  cost  more 
money  so  that  he  lost  his  job.  Thus  it  has  been  that 
from  the  very  people  from  whom  we  expected  the 
most  encouragement  in  the  beginning  of  our  efforts, 
we  received  the  least. 

I  remember  very  well  one  time  when  an  opportun- 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN 


7 

ity  came  to  do  something  a  little  better.  A  zebra  was 
brought  into  the  Establishment.  I  had  been  study¬ 
ing  anatomy  and  I  had  learned  the  names  of  all  the 
muscles  and  all  the  bones.  When  I  saw  the  zebra  I 
realized  that  here  was  an  opportunity  to  do  something 
good  and  I  asked  to  make  a  plaster  cast  of  the  body. 
I  had  to  do  it  in  my  own  time  and  worked  from  supper 
until  breakfast  time,  following  out  a  few  special  ex¬ 
periments  of  my  own  in  the  process.  Nevertheless, 
the  zebra  was  handed  out  to  be  mounted  in  the  old 
way  and  my  casts  were  thrown  on  the  dump. 

I  stayed  at  this  leading  institution  of  taxidermy  for 
four  years  and  while  I  was  there  we  stuffed  animals 
for  most  of  the  museums  in  the  country,  for  hunters 
and  sportsmen,  and  various  other  kinds  of  people, 
including  Barnum’s  circus.  The  animal  we  stuffed 
for  Barnum’s  circus  was  the  famous  elephant  Jumbo. 
We  had  to  use  a  slightly  different  method  for  Jumbo, 
not  only  because  of  his  size  but  because  he  had  to  be 
made  rigid  and  strong  enough  to  stand  being  carted 
around  the  country  with  the  circus;  for  this  old  ele¬ 
phant  served  dead  as  well  as  alive  to  amuse  and  in¬ 
struct  the  public.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  is  still  at 
it,  for  his  skin  on  the  steel-and-wood  frame  we  made 
for  it  at  Ward’s  is  at  Tufts  College  and  his  skeleton 
is  at  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History. 

Between  the  time  that  I  first  went  to  Ward’s  and 
my  last  job  there,  which  was  on  Jumbo,  there  was  an 
intermission  which  I  spent  in  the  taxidermy  shop  of 
John  Wallace  on  North  William  Street  in  New  York. 
I  roomed  in  Brooklyn  with  Doctor  Funk,  of  Funk  & 


8  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

Wagnalls,  and  worked  in  the  basement  shop  of 
Wallace’s,  and  a  more  dreary  six  months  I  never  had 
spent  anywhere.  So  when  Ward  came  after  me  to  go 
back,  saying  that  his  having  fired  me  was  all  a  mistake 
due  to  erroneous  reports  that  had  been  given  him,  I 
went,  and  stayed  three  years.  During  this  time  I  got 
to  know  Professor  Webster  of  Rochester  University, 
who  later  became  president  of  Union  College,  and  he 
urged  me  to  study  to  become  a  professor.  In  spite 
of  the  fact  that  my  education  had  stopped  early  on 
account  of  a  lack  of  funds,  I  set  to  work  to  prepare 
myself  to  go  to  the  Sheffield  Scientific  School.  But 
between  working  in  the  daytime  and  studying  at 
night  I  broke  down,  and  when  examination  time  came 
I  wasn’t  ready.  However,  my  chances  of  further 
education,  although  delayed,  seemed  improved.  At 
the  time  I  was  studying  for  the  Sheffield  Scientific 
School  my  friend,  William  Morton  Wheeler,  had  left 
Ward’s  and  was  teaching  in  the  High  School  in  Mil¬ 
waukee.  He  wrote  and  offered  to  tutor  me  if  I  would 
go  out  there.  So  I  went  to  Milwaukee  and  got  a  job 
with  the  museum  there,  which  was  to  give  me  food 
and  lodging  while  I  prepared  for  college.  It  did  more 
than  that,  for  it  absorbed  me  so  that  I  gave  up  all 
thought  of  abandoning  taxidermy.  I  stayed  eight 
years  in  Milwaukee,  working  in  the  museum  and  in  a 
shop  of  my  own. 

Several  things  happened  there  which  stimulated 
my  interest  in  taxidermy.  One  of  the  directors  had 
been  to  Lapland  and  had  collected  the  skin  of  a  rein¬ 
deer,  a  Laplander  s  sled,  and  the  driving  parapher^ 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN  9 

nalia,  and  he  was  anxious  to  have  these  shown  in  the 
museum.  This  material  we  turned  into  a  group  of  a 
Laplander  driving  a  reindeer  over  the  snow.  That 
was  fairly  successful,  and  we  induced  the  museum  to 
buy  a  set  of  skins  of  orang-outangs,  which  Charles 
F.  Adams,  another  of  my  former  colleagues  at  Ward's, 
had  collected  in  Borneo.  We  arranged  them  in  a 
group  using  some  bare  branches  as  accessories. 

In  making  these  groups  we  had  had  to  abandon 
the  old  straw-rag-and-bone  method  of  stuffing  and 
create  modelled  manikins  over  which  to  stretch  the 
skins.  As  soon  as  this  point  was  reached  several 
problems  presented  themselves,  the  solution  of  which 
meant  an  entirely  new  era  in  taxidermy.  If  a  man 
was  going  to  model  a  realistic  manikin  for  an  animal's 
skin,  instead  of  stuffing  the  skin  with  straw,  it  was 
evident  he  would  have  to  learn  to  model.  Likewise 
it  turned  out  that,  even  if  a  man  knew  how  to  model, 
he  couldn't  model  an  animal  body  sufficiently  well 
for  the  skin  to  fit  it  unless  he  knew  animal  anatomy.  , 
And  we  found  out  also  that  making  a  manikin  from 
a  model  was  not  as  simple  as  it  sounds,  but  that  on 
the  contrary  it  is  about  as  difficult  as  casting  in  bronze, 
the  difference  being  that  the  art  of  bronze  casting  has 
been  developed  through  many  years,  while  the  art  of 
making  manikins  had  to  be  created  comparatively 
quickly  and  by  a  very  few  people.  We  worked  at 
these  problems  step  by  step  in  Milwaukee  and  made 
a  good  deal  of  progress. 

The  reindeer  and  orang-outang  work  encouraged 
me  to  suggest  a  series  of  groups  of  the  fur-bearing 


IO  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

animals  of  Wisconsin,  the  muskrat  group  to  be  the 
first  of  the  series.  This  suggestion  was  more  toler¬ 
ated  than  encouraged  when  it  was  first  made,  but  I 
went  as  far  as  I  could  go  with  my  dream  and  before  I 
left  there  I  finished  the  muskrat  group,  as  I  did  most 
of  my  early  experiments,  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of 
the  authorities.  It  was  the  old,  old  story  of  starting  a 
thing  and  having  to  give  it  up  because  of  lack  of  sup¬ 
port.  But  my  idea  won  eventually.  It  was  only  a 
short  time  until  my  friend  Wheeler  was  made  director 
of  the  museum  and  from  then  on  there  was  full 
sympathy  for  the  plan.  This  was  an  entering  wedge, 
and  since  that  time  group  after  group  has  been  added, 
until  now  that  museum  has  a  magnificent  series. 

Wheeler,  who  had  encouraged  me  to  go  to  Mil¬ 
waukee,  also  was  the  cause  of  my  leaving.  One  year, 
while  he  was  director,  he  went  to  Europe,  and  while 
abroad  had  a  talk  with  Sir  William  Flower  of  the 
British  Museum,  in  which  Flower  intimated  that  he 
would  like  me  to  go  there.  So  I  planned  to  quit 
Milwaukee  and  to  go  to  London.  However,  I  didn’t 
immediately  get  any  farther  than  Chicago.  I  stopped 
there  and  happened  to  go  into  the  Field  Museum  of 
Natural  History.  It  was  then  housed  in  the  old  art 
gallery  of  the  Columbian  Exposition.  Professor 
Daniel  G.  Eliot  was  its  curator  of  zoology.  He  of¬ 
fered  me  some  taxidermy  contracts  on  the  spot  and 
I  accepted.  While  I  was  doing  them  he  suggested 
that  I  go  with  him  on  an  expedition  to  Africa.  We 
started  in  1896. 

When  we  got  back  from  that  trip  I  continued  at  the 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN 


ii 


Field  Museum  as  chief  of  the  Department  of  Taxi¬ 
dermy.  Before  leaving  Milwaukee  I  had  been  work¬ 
ing  on  an  idea  of  four  deer  groups,  to  be  called  the 
“Four  Seasons,”  to  show  the  animals  in  natural  sur¬ 
roundings  of  spring,  summer,  autumn,  and  winter.  I 
collected  a  good  deal  of  the  necessary  material  and 
put  a  lot  of  work  on  the  project  in  my  own  shop,  and 
finally  reached  a  point  where  it  became  necessary  for 
me  to  know  whether  the  museum  was  going  to  want 
the  groups  or  not.  I  approached  the  curator  of 
zoology.  He  said  that  he  would  recommend  the 
purchase  of  one  of  the  four.  Later  I  saw  the  presi¬ 
dent  of  the  museum.  After  some  discussion  he  asked 
why  it  was  that  the  museum  couldn’t  have  the  four 
groups.  I  gave  him  every  assurance  that  it  could. 
I  spent  four  years  on  these  four  groups.  It  wouldn’t 
take  so  long  now  but  at  that  time  we  had  not  only 
to  make  the  groups  but  also  to  perfect  the  methods 
of  doing  it  at  the  same  time.  Four  years  is  a  long 
time  to  take  on  four  deer  groups,  but  the  number  of 
things  in  taxidermy  we  worked  out  in  doing  those 
groups  made  it  a  very  full  four  years’  work.  In  fact, 
the  method  finally  used  for  mounting  those  deer 
groups  is  the  method  still  in  use. 

Briefly,  that  method  is  this:  For  each  animal  a 
rough  armature  was  made,  on  which  a  life-sized  clay 
model  was  shaped  just  like  a  clay  model  made  for 
casting  in  bronze  except  that  to  facilitate  accuracy 
the  skull  and  leg  bones  of  the  animal  were  used.  This 
model  was  checked  by  measurements  made  of  the 
dead  animal  in  the  field,  by  photographs,  and  fre- 


12 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

quently  by  anatomical  casts  made  in  the  field.  The 
final  result  was  a  model  not  only  of  the  species  but  of 
the  actual  animal  whose  skin  we  were  going  to  use. 
All  this  took  a  lot  of  time,  study,  and  money,  and  it 
was  quite  a  different  thing  from  stuffing  a  skin  with 
rags  and  straw.  For  a  temporary  effect  the  skin 
could  be  mounted  on  the  clay  model,  but  an  animal 
so  mounted  would  deteriorate.  For  permanent 
work  it  was  necessary  to  devise  some  light,  durable 
substance,  which  would  not  be  affected  by  moisture, 
to  take  the  place  of  the  clay  of  the  manikin.  After  a 
lot  of  experimentation  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
a  papier-mache  manikin  reenforced  by  wire  cloth 
and  coated  with  shellac  would  be  tough,  strong, 
durable,  and  impervious  to  moisture.  It  isn’t  possi¬ 
ble  to  model  papier-mache  with  the  hands  as  one 
moulds  clay,  so  the  problem  resolved  itself  into  mak- 
mg  a  plaster  mould  of  the  clay  model  and  then  using 
that  to  build  the  papier-mache  manikin.  When  a 
man  wishes  to  make  a  bronze  in  a  mould  he  can  pour 
the  melted  metal  into  the  mould  and  when  it  has 
cooled  remove  the  mould.  But  you  can’t  pour 
papier-mache  reenforced  with  wire  cloth  and  if  you 
put  it  into  a  plaster-of-paris  mould  it  will  stick.  The 
solution  of  this  difficulty  struck  me  suddenly  one  day 
when  I  was  riding  into  town  to  go  to  the  museum. 

“I’ve  got  it!”  I  exclaimed,  to  the  amusement  of 
my  friends  and  the  rest  of  the  car  full  of  people.  As 
soon  as  I  could  get  to  my  shop  I  tried  it  and  it  worked. 
It  was  to  take  the  plaster  moulds  of  the  clay  model 
and  coat  the  inside  of  them  with  glue.  On  this  glue 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN  13 

I  laid  a  sheet  of  muslin  and  worked  it  carefully  and 
painstakingly  into  every  undulation  of  the  mould. 
On  this  went  thin  layers  of  papier-mache  with  the 
wire  cloth  reenforcement  likewise  worked  carefully 
into  every  undulation  of  the  mould.  Every  layer  of 
the  papier-mache  composition  was  carefully  covered 
with  a  coating  of  shellac  so  that  each  layer,  as  well  as 
the  whole,  was  entirely  impervious  to  water.  For 
animals  the  size  of  a  deer  two  layers  of  reenforced 
composition  give  strength  enough.  For  animals  the 
size  of  an  elephant  four  are  sufficient  and  four 
layers  are  only  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick. 
When  the  final  coat  of  shellac  was  well  dried  I  im¬ 
mersed  the  whole  thing  in  water.  The  water  affected 
nothing  but  the  thin  coating  of  glue  between  the 
mould  and  the  muslin.  That  melted  and  my  muslin- 
covered,  reenforced  papier-mache  sections  of  the 
manikin  came  out  of  the  plaster  mould  clean  and 
perfect  replicas  of  the  original  clay  model.  The 
four  sections  of  the  manikin  were  assembled  with  the 
necessary  leg  irons  and  wooden  ribs  and  the  whole 
was  ready  for  the  skin. 

The  combination  of  glue  and  muslin  was  the  key 
to  the  whole  problem.  The  manikin  so  made  is  an 
absolutely  accurate  reproduction  of  the  clay  model, 
even  more  accurate  than  bronze  castings  for  there  is 
no  shrinkage.  The  manikin  of  a  deer  so  constructed 
weighs  less  than  thirty  pounds,  but  it  is  strong  enough 
to  hold  a  man's  weight.  I  have  sat  on  the  back  of 
an  antelope  mounted  in  this  manner  and  done  it  no 
harm.  Moreover,  it  is  entirely  made  of  clean  and 


14  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

durable  materials.  There  is  nothing  to  rot  or  shrink 
or  to  cause  shrinkage  or  decay  in  the  skin.  Of  the 
animal  itself  only  the  shells  of  the  hoofs  and  horns, 
and  the  skin  are  used,  and  the  skin  is  much  more  care¬ 
fully  cleaned  and  tanned  than  those  of  women's  furs. 
An  animal  prepared  in  this  way  will  last  indefinitely. 
This  was  a  long  step  from  the  methods  we  used  at 
Ward's  of  filling  a  raw  skin  with  greasy  bones  of  the 
legs  and  skull  and  stuffing  the  body  out  with  straw, 
excelsior,  old  rags,  and  the  like. 

I  believe  that  there  has  not  yet  been  devised  a  bet¬ 
ter  method  of  taxidermy  than  that  described  here  and 
its  use  has  become  almost  universal.  Although  it 
does  not  take  much  time  to  tell  about  it,  the  mounting 
of  an  animal  in  this  way  is  a  long  and  tedious  process. 
Moreover,  it  is  hard  work.  Consequently,  but  few 
of  the  people  using  it  do  a  thoroughly  constructed 
manikin.  In  an  attempt  to  save  time  and  money 
cheaper  processes  are  resorted  to  and  many  animals, 
mounted  by  methods  that  only  approximate  that 
which  I  have  evolved,  fail  to  show  good  results. 
When  the  method  was  first  introduced  at  the  Ameri¬ 
can  Museum  of  Natural  History,  the  authorities 
objected  to  its  expense,  and  to  cut  down  the  cost  a 
light  plaster  cast,  believed  to  be  “just  as  good,'' 
was  substituted  for  the  manikin.  Many  specimens 
mounted  in  this  manner  have  since  been  thrown  on 
the  dump  heap. 

I  finally  got  the  four  deer  groups  finished  and  the 
Field  Museum  bought  them  at  the  price  agreed  upon. 
When  I  figured  it  out  financially  I  found  that  I  had 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN 


15 

come  out  even  on  my  expenditures  for  labour  and 
materials  but  for  my  own  time  and  for  profit  there 
was  nothing.  However,  I  had  the  experience  and 
the  method  and  I  felt  that  it  was  a  pretty  good  four 
years'  work. 

In  the  old  days  at  Ward's  a  taxidermist  was  a  man 
who  took  an  animal’s  skin  from  a  hunter  or  collector 
and  stuffed  it  or  upholstered  it.  By  the  time  I  had 
finished  the  deer  groups  I  had  become  pretty  well 
convinced  that  a  real  taxidermist  needed  to  know 
the  technique  of  several  quite  different  things. 

First,  he  must  be  a  field  man  who  can  collect  his 
own  specimens,  for  other  people's  measurements  are 
never  very  satisfactory,  and  actual  study  of  the 
animals  in  their  own  environment  is  necessary  in 
making  natural  groups. 

Second,  he  must  know  both  animal  anatomy  and 
clay  modelling  in  order  to  make  his  models. 

Third,  he  should  have  something  of  the  artistic 
sense  to  make  his  groups  pleasing  as  well  as  accurate. 

Fourth,  he  must  know  the  technique  of  manikin 
making,  the  tanning  of  skins,  and  the  making  of  ac¬ 
cessories  such  as  artificial  leaves,  branches,  etc. 

With  all  these  different  kinds  of  technique  in  taxi¬ 
dermy  it  is  obvious  that  if  a  man  attempts  to  do  prac¬ 
tically  everything  himself,  as  I  did  in  the  deer  groups, 
taxidermy  must  be  a  very  slow  process — just  as  if  a 
painter  had  to  learn  to  make  his  own  paint  or  a  sculp¬ 
tor  to  cast  his  own  bronzes  or  chisel  his  concepts  out 
of  granite  or  marble. 

The  proper  care  of  the  skins  in  the  field  is  itself  a 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


16 

subject  of  infinite  ramifications.  I  remember,  for 
instance,  my  experience  in  skinning  the  first  elephant 
that  I  killed.  I  shot  him  in  the  early  afternoon.  I 
immediately  set  to  work  photographing  and  measur¬ 
ing  him.  That  took  about  an  hour,  and  then  I  set  to 
the  serious  work  of  getting  off  his  skin.  I  worked 
as  rapidly  as  I  could,  wherever  possible  using  the  help 
of  the  fifty  boys  of  my  safari ,  and  by  strenuous  efforts 
finished  taking  the  skin  off  and  salting  it  by  breakfast 
time  the  next  morning.  And  that  was  not  quick 
enough.  Before  I  got  all  the  skin  off  the  carcass 
some  of  it  on  the  under  side  had  begun  to  decompose 
and  I  lost  a  little  of  it.  This  was  a  particularly 
difficult  beast  to  skin  because  he  had  fallen  in  a  little 
hollow  and  after  skinning  the  exposed  side  of  him  all 
the  efforts  of  the  fifty  black  boys  to  roll  him  over,  out 
of  the  depression,  so  that  we  could  easily  get  at  the 
other  side,  failed.  After  I  had  had  more  practice,  I 
was  able  to  photograph,  measure,  and  skin  an  ele¬ 
phant  and  have  his  hide  salted  in  eight  hours.  But 
then  the  work  on  the  skin  was  only  begun.  A  green 
skin  like  this  weighs  a  ton  and  a  quarter  and  in  places 
is  as  much  as  two  and  a  half  inches  thick.  There  is 
about  four  days*  work  in  thinning  it.  I  have  had 
thirty  or  forty  black  boys  for  days  cutting  at  the  in¬ 
side  of  the  skin  in  this  thinning  process  or  sharpening 
the  knives  with  which  they  did  the  work. 

When  it  is  finally  thinned  down,  thoroughly  dried 
and  salted,  it  presents  another  problem.  Moisture 
will  ruin  it.  Salt,  the  only  available  preservative, 
attracts  moisture.  It  isn’t  possible  to  carry  zinc- 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN  17 

lined  cases  into  the  forests  after  elephants.  I  tried 
ouilding  thatched  roofs  over  the  skins  but  it  was  not 
a  success.  I  speculated  on  many  other  plans  but 
none  appeared  feasible.  Finally  Nature  provided  a 
solution  for  the  difficulty. 

There  are,  in  the  elephant  country,  many  great 
swarms  of  bees.  I  set  the  natives  to  work  collecting 
beeswax  which  is  as  impervious  to  moisture  as  shellac. 
I  melted  the  wax  and  used  it  to  coat  unbleached  cot¬ 
ton  cloth,  known  in  East  Africa  as  Americana.  In 
this  water-tight,  wax-covered  cloth  I  wrapped  my 
dried  and  salted  rolls  of  skins  and  packed  them  on 
the  porters’  heads  down  to  the  railroad. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  field  conditions  make  it  so 
difficult  to  care  for  skins  properly  that  only  a  very 
small  percentage  ever  reach  a  taxidermy  shop  in 
perfect  condition. 

Similarly  the  measurement  of  animals  for  taxi¬ 
dermy  presents  many  difficulties.  The  size  of  a  lion’s 
leg,  for  instance,  measured  as  it  hangs  limp  after  the 
animal  s  death  is  not  accurate  data  for  the  leg  with 
the  muscles  taut  ready  for  action.  Nor  is  an  animal’s 
body  the  same  size  with  its  lungs  deflated  in  death 
as  when  the  breath  of  life  was  in  its  body.  All  these 
things  must  be  taken  into  account  in  using  measure¬ 
ments  or  even  casts  to  resurrect  an  animal  true  to  its 
living  appearance. 

My  work  on  the  deer  groups  impressed  me  with  the 
fact  that  taxidermy,  if  it  was  to  be  an  art,  must  have 
skilled  assistance  as  the  other  arts  have.  I  began  to 
dream  of  museums  which  would  have  artist-naturalists 


18  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

who  would  have  the  vision  to  plan  groups  and  the 
skill  to  model  them  and  who  would  be  furnished  with 
skilled  assistance  in  the  making  of  the  manikins  and 
accessories  and  in  the  mounting  of  the  animals.  And 
it  seemed  as  if  the  dream  were  about  to  come  true. 
About  this  time  I  had  a  conference  with  Dr.  Herman 
Bumpus,  then  director  of  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History  in  New  York.  He  told  me  that  he 
had  then  at  the  museum  a  young  man  named  James 
Clark  who  could  model  but  who  did  not  know  the 
technique  of  making  manikins  and  mounting  animals. 
The  result  of  our  talk  was  that  Clark  came  out  to 
my  shop  in  Chicago  and  together  we  went  through 
the  whole  process,  mounting  a  doe  which  now  stands 
in  the  American  Museum.  But  the  old  museum 
trouble  broke  out  again.  It  cost  a  lot  to  mount 
animals  in  the  method  which  Clark  brought  back. 
So  there  was  pressure  to  reduce  the  cost  and,  under 
this  pressure,  the  methods,  in  the  words  of  O.  Henry, 
“were  damaged  by  improvements.”  However,  in 
the  course  of  time  it  was  demonstrated  that  while 
it  often  happens  that  an  honest  effort  to  make  a  thing 
better  often  makes  it  cheaper  also,  an  effort  merely 
to  cheapen  a  thing  very  seldom  makes  it  better. 

In  the  meanwhile,  in  1905,  I  went  to  Africa  again, 
to  collect  zoological  material  for  the  Field  Museum. 

Again,  in  1909,  I  went,  this  time  for  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History.  I  stayed  two  years, 
studying  elephants,  lions,  and  lion  spearing.  When 
I  got  back  and  set  to  work  mounting  the  elephant 
group  in  the  American  Museum  in  New  York,  I  dis- 


A  NEW  ART  BEGUN 


19 

covered  that  with  these  hairless  skins  there  was  op¬ 
portunity  for  a  little  simplification  of  the  method  used 
in  the  deer  groups.  It  was  possible  actually  to  model 
the  skin  on  the  clay  manikin,  only  in  this  case  the 
clay  manikin  was  for  convenience  in  three  pieces. 
A  layer  of  plaster  of  paris  was  then  laid  on  outside 
the  skin  to  hold  it  firmly  in  shape.  Then  the  clay 
removed  from  the  inside  was  replaced  with  a  layer 
of  plaster.  Thus  every  detail  of  the  skin  was  held 
firmly  in  the  matrix  of  plaster  until  it  was  thoroughly 
dried,  when  the  plaster  was  removed  from  the  inside 
and  replaced  with  succeeding  layers  of  wire  cloth  and 
shellaced  papier-mache,  making  the  skin  an  integral 
part  of  the  manikin.  In  other  words,  the  skin  func¬ 
tioned  practically  as  does  the  muslin  in  the  manikins 
made  for  haired  animals.  When  this  was  done  the 
plaster  mould  was  taken  off  the  outside  and  the  clean, 
light,  durable  half-sections  of  elephants  were  put  to¬ 
gether. 

When  I  got  back  from  Africa  in  1911  I  was  dream¬ 
ing  of  a  great  African  Hall  which  would  combine 
all  the  advances  that  had  been  made  in  taxidermy 
and  the  arts  of  museum  exhibition  and  at  the  same 
time  would  make  a  permanent  record  of  the  fast¬ 
disappearing  wild  life  of  that  most  interesting  ani¬ 
mal  kingdom,  Africa. 


CHAPTER  II 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES 

I  HAVE  sat  in  the  top  of  a  tree  in  the  middle  of  a 
herd  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  a  native  village  in 
Uganda  in  a  last  desperate  effort  to  inspect  the 
two  hundred  and  fifty  elephants  which  had  been 
chevying  me  about  so  fast  that  I  had  not  had  a  chance 
to  see  whether  there  were  any  desirable  specimens 
among  them  or  not.  I  have  spent  a  day  and  a  night  in 
the  Budongo  Forest  in  the  middle  of  a  herd  of  seven 
hundred  elephants.  I  have  stood  on  an  ant-hill 
awaiting  the  rush  of  eleven  elephants  which  had  got 
my  wind  and  were  determined  to  get  me.  I  have 
spent  a  day  following  and  fighting  an  old  bull  which 
took  twenty-five  shots  of  our  elephant  rifles  before 
he  succumbed.  And  once  also  I  had  such  close 
contact  with  an  old  bull  up  on  the  slopes  of  Mt. 
Kenia  that  I  had  to  save  myself  from  being  gored  by 
grabbing  his  tusks  with  my  hands  and  swinging  in 
between  them. 

I  have  spent  many  months  studying  elephants  in 
Africa — on  the  plains,  in  the  forests,  in  the  bamboo, 
up  on  the  mountains.  I  have  watched  them  in  herds 
and  singly,  studied  their  paths,  their  feeding  grounds, 
everything  about  them  I  could,  and  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  of  all  the  wild  animals  on  this  earth 


7Q 


21 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES 

now,  the  African  elephant  is  the  most  fascinating, 
and  that  man,  for  all  the  thousands  of  years  he  has 
known  of  elephants,  knows  mighty  little  about  him. 
I  am  speaking  only  of  the  African  elephant.  He  has 
not  been  domesticated  as  his  Indian  cousin  has.  The 
two  are  different  in  size  and  different  in  shape  and 
different  in  habits.  The  low  point  of  an  African 
elephant's  back  line  is  the  highest  point  of  that  of  the 
Indian  elephant.  The  African  elephant's  ears  and 
tusks  are  larger,  and  his  tusks  usually  spread  wider 
at  the  points  instead  of  coming  together.  Unless 
one  studies  him  in  his  native  haunts,  one  cannot  get 
to  know  him.  His  disposition  is  held  to  be  wilder 
than  that  of  the  Indian  elephant,  but  the  infrequency 
of  his  appearance  in  circuses  and  in  zoological  parks 
may  be  attributed  to  the  ease  with  which  tamed  ele¬ 
phants  may  be  obtained  from  India  rather  than  to 
a  difference  of  temper  in  the  two  beasts.  An  African 
elephant  at  Washington  and  one  in  the  Bronx  zo¬ 
ological  park  are  the  only  ones  I  know  of  in  this  coun¬ 
try,  and  no  animal  in  captivity  can  give  one  more 
than  a  slight  idea  of  his  natural  habits  in  his  jungle 
home. 

Very  few  people  have  studied  African  elephants 
in  the  field.  Ninety-five  per  cent,  of  those  who  have 
followed  them  have  been  purely  hunters  and  their 
desire  has  been,  not  to  study,  but  to  shoot — to  see  the 
elephant  the  shortest  possible  time.  Time  to  judge 
the  ivories  and  get  a  bead  on  the  brain  was  all  that 
they  wanted.  Of  other  elephant  knowledge  all  that 
they  needed  was  the  simple  facts  of  how  to  follow  and 


22 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

find  them.  The  comparatively  few  men  who  have 
tried  to  study  the  elephant  have  not  gained  as  much 
knowledge  as  one  would  imagine,  because  without 
trying  it  one  cannot  realize  how  extremely  difficult 
it  is  to  study  the  live  African  elephant. 

For  example,  as  I  said  before,  I  spent  a  day  with 
seven  hundred  elephants  in  the  Budongo  Forest,  but 
although  I  heard  them  all  the  time  and  was  very 
acutely  conscious  that  they  were  near  me,  I  do  not 
believe  that  I  actually  had  my  eyes  on  an  elephant 
more  than  half  an  hour,  all  told,  during  the  day.  It 
happened  this  way. 

One  night  about  dark,  after  a  week  or  two  of  hunt¬ 
ing,  we  heard  the  squeal  of  an  elephant  while  we  were 
sitting  at  dinner.  A  little  later  there  were  more 
squeals  and  occasional  trumpeting — more  and  more, 
clearer  and  clearer — and  by  the  time  we  had  finished 
dinner  the  noise  was  only  a  mile  or  so  away.  It  was 
a  continuous  row  which  suggested  a  tremendous  herd. 
We  went  to  bed  early  with  elephants  getting  closer 
to  camp  all  of  the  time.  There  is  little  danger  of 
elephants  attacking  a  camp,  and,  as  there  is  no  way 
to  study  them  at  night,  about  the  only  thing  left  to 
do  was  to  go  to  bed  and  get  in  good  shape  for  the  next 
day.  Along  about  midnight  Mrs.  Akeley  came  over 
to  my  tent  and  said  that  she  had  loaded  my  guns  and 
that  they  were  all  ready.  She  could  not  sleep;  so 
she  went  out  to  sit  by  the  fire.  The  elephants  were 
then  within  a  hundred  yards  of  our  tents  and  there 
was  a  continuous  roar  made  up  of  trumpetings, 
squealing,  and  the  crashing  of  bushes  and  trees. 


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ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  23 

I  got  up  in  the  morning  and  had  breakfast  before 
daybreak.  The  elephants  had  moved  on  down  the 
edge  of  the  forest.  What  had  been  a  jungle  of  high 
grass  and  bush  the  day  before  was  trampled  flat. 
There  were  at  least  seven  hundred  elephants  in  the 
herd — government  officials  had  counted  them  on  the 
previous  day  as  they  came  down.  I  followed  the 
trails  to  the  edge  of  the  forest  but  saw  none.  I  started 
back  to  cross  a  little  nullah  (a  dry  water  course),  but 
felt  suspicious  and  decided  to  look  the  situation  over 
a  little  more  closely.  I  ran  up  on  a  sloping  rock  and, 
almost  under  me  on  the  other  side,  I  saw  the  back  of 
a  large  elephant.  Over  to  one  side  there  was  another 
one,  beyond  that  another,  and  then  I  realized  that 
the  little  nullah  through  which  I  had  planned  to  pass 
was  very  well  sprinkled  with  them.  I  backed  off  and 
went  up  to  a  higher  rock  to  one  side.  Elephants 
were  drifting  into  the  forest  from  all  directions.  The 
sun  was  just  coming  up  over  the  hills  and  was  shining 
upon  the  forest,  which  sparkled  in  the  sunlight — 
morning  greetings  to  the  forest  people.  The  monkeys 
greeted  one  another  with  barks  and  coughs.  Every¬ 
thing  was  waking  up — it  was  a  busy  day.  There 
was  not  a  breath  of  air.  I  had  gone  back  a  million 
years;  the  birds  were  calling  back  and  forth,  the 
monkeys  were  calling  to  one  another,  a  troop  of 
chimpanzees  in  the  open  screamed,  and  their  shouts 
were  answered  from  another  group  inside  the  forest. 
All  the  forest  life  was  awake  and  moving  about  as 
that  huge  herd  of  elephants,  singly  and  in  groups, 
flowed  into  the  forest  from  the  plain.  There  was  one 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


24 

continuous  roar  of  noise,  all  the  wild  life  joining,  but 
above  it  all  were  the  crashing  of  trees  and  the  squeal¬ 
ing  of  the  elephants  as  they  moved  into  the  forest  on  a 
front  at  least  a  mile  wide.  It  was  the  biggest  show 
I  ever  saw  in  Africa. 

Then  an  old  cow  just  at  the  edge  of  the  forest  sud¬ 
denly  got  my  wind,  and  wheeling  about,  she  let  out  a 
scream.  Instantly  every  sound  ceased,  everything 
was  quiet.  The  monkeys,  the  birds — all  the  wild 
life — stopped  their  racket;  the  elephants  stood  still, 
listening  and  waiting.  For  a  moment  I  was  dazed. 
The  thought  came  through  my  mind — “  What  does  it 
all  mean?  Have  I  been  dreaming ?”  But  soon  I 
heard  the  rustling  of  the  trees  as  though  a  great  storm 
were  coming.  There  was  no  movement  of  the  air,  but 
there  was  the  sound  of  a  wind  storm  going  through  a 
forest.  It  gradually  died  away,  and  I  realized  that  the 
elephants  had  made  it  as  they  moved  off.  It  was 
the  rustling  of  the  dry  leaves  on  the  ground  under 
their  feet  and  the  rubbing  of  their  bodies  through  the 
dried  foliage  of  the  forest.  I  never  heard  a  noise 
like  that  made  by  elephants — before  or  since.  The 
conditions  were  unique,  for  everything  was  thor¬ 
oughly  parched,  and  there  had  not  even  been  a  dew. 
Ordinarily,  if  there  is  any  moisture,  elephants  when 
warned  can  travel  through  a  forest  without  the  slight¬ 
est  noise.  In  spite  of  their  great  bulk  they  are  as 
silent  and  sometimes  as  hard  to  see  in  their  country 
as  a  jack  rabbit  is  in  his.  I  remember  on  one  occasion 
being  so  close  to  an  old  cow  in  the  jungle  that  I  could 
hear  the  rumbling  of  her  stomach,  and  yet  when  she 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  25 

realized  my  presence  the  rumbling  ceased,  as  it  al¬ 
ways  does  when  they  are  suspicious,  and  she  left  the 
clump  of  growth  she  was  in  without  my  hearing  a 
sound. 

But  going  back  to  the  big  herd.  From  the  time  I 
had  seen  the  first  elephant  until  the  last  of  them 
disappeared  in  the  forest  it  had  been  perhaps  fifteen 
minutes — fifteen  minutes  in  which  to  see  the  sight  of 
a  lifetime,  a  thing  to  go  to  Africa  a  dozen  times  to 
get  one  glimpse  of.  But  what  did  I  learn  about  the 
habits  of  the  elephant  in  that  fifteen  minutes?  A 
little  perhaps  but  not  much.  It  takes  a  long  time  and 
much  patience  to  get  at  all  intimate  with  old  Tembo, 
as  the  Swahilis  call  him,  on  his  native  soil. 

After  the  herd  disappeared  in  the  forest  I  watched 
for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  and  heard  the  squeal  of  the 
elephants  and  the  noise  of  the  monkeys  again.  Their 
suspicions  were  over.  I  followed  into  the  forest 
where  the  trails  showed  me  that  they  had  broken  up 
into  small  bands.  I  followed  along  on  the  trail  of 
one  of  these  bands  until  I  got  a  glimpse  of  an  elephant 
about  fifty  yards  ahead  of  me  in  the  trail.  You 
don’t  see  a  whole  elephant  in  the  forest.  What  you 
do  see  is  just  a  glimpse  of  hide  or  tusk  or  trunk 
through  the  trees.  And  if  you  want  to  get  this 
glimpse  without  disturbing  him  you  must  do  your 
glimpsing  from  down  the  wind. 

There  was  a  little  open  space  ahead  of  the  group  I 
was  following.  I  worked  around  until  I  got  to  a 
place  where  I  could  see  them  as  they  passed  through 
this  open  space.  They  were  moving  along  slowly, 


26 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


feeding.  Two  or  three  came  out  into  the  opening, 
then  they  became  suspicious  and  wheeled  into  the 
forest  again.  I  followed  cautiously.  I  had  gone  only 
a  short  distance  when  I  saw  a  very  young  calf  about 
twenty  yards  ahead  of  me.  As  I  halted,  the  mother 
came  trotting  back  down  the  trail  looking  for  the 
baby.  I  froze  to  the  side  of  a  tree  with  my  gun  ready. 
She  came  to  the  baby  and  turning,  boosted  it  along 
with  her  trunk  after  the  rest  of  the  herd.  I  followed 
along  after  them  into  an  opening  where  I  found  them 
rounded  up  in  a  patch  of  burned-over  ground.  They 
were  milling  around  in  a  rather  compact  mass  seem¬ 
ingly  preparing  for  defence.  I  could  not  see  very 
plainly,  for  a  cloud  of  dust  rose  from  the  burned 
ground  as  they  shuffled  about.  I  stood  watching 
them  a  little  time  and  suddenly  caught  sight  of  a 
fine  tusk — an  old  bull  and  just  what  I  wanted  for  the 
group  I  was  working  on  for  the  Museum  of  Natural 
History.  I  ran  up  behind  a  bush  at  the  edge  of  the 
clearing  and  peeked  through  it.  There,  not  more 
than  twenty  yards  from  me,  was  my  bull,  partially 
exposed  and  partially  covered  by  the  other  animals. 
I  could  not  get  a  shot  at  his  brain  as  he  was  standing, 
but  the  foreleg  on  my  side  was  forward  exposing  his 
side  so  that  I  had  a  good  shot  at  his  heart — a  shot 
I  had  never  made  before.  The  heart  is  eighteen  or 
twenty  inches  long  and  perhaps  a  foot  up  and  down — 
a  good  mark  in  size  if  one's  guess  at  its  location  is 
accurate.  If  you  can  hit  an  elephant's  vertebrae  and 
break  his  back  you  can  kill  him.  You  can  kill  him 
by  hitting  his  heart,  or  by  hitting  his  brain.  If  you 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  27 

hit  him  anywhere  else  you  are  not  likely  to  hurt  him 
much  and  the  brain  and  heart  shots  are  the  only  safe 
bets.  I  fired  at  his  heart  with  both  barrels  and  then 
grabbed  my  other  gun  from  the  gun  boy,  ready  for 
their  rush,  but  the  whole  herd,  including  the  old 
bull,  made  off  in  the  other  direction,  raising  a  cloud  of 
dust.  I  ran  around  and  climbed  an  ant-hill  four  or 
five  feet  high  to  keep  them  in  sight. 

When  I  caught  sight  of  them  they  had  gone  about; 
fifty  yards  and  had  stopped.  And  then  I  did  learn 
something  about  elephants.  My  old  bull  was  down  on 
the  ground  on  his  side.  Around  him  were  ten  or  twelve 
other  elephants  trying  desperately  with  their  trunks 
and  tusks  to  get  him  on  his  feet  again.  They  were  doing 
their  best  to  rescue  their  wounded  comrade.  They 
moved  his  great  bulk  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  their 
efforts,  but  were  unable  to  get  him  up.  I  don’t  know 
of  any  other  big  animals  that  will  do  this.  I  had 
heard  stories  that  elephants  had  the  chivalry  to  stick 
by  their  wounded  and  help  them,  but  I  was  never 
sure  myself  until  I  had  actually  seen  this  instance. 
Some  time  later  Major  Harrison,  a  very  experienced 
elephant  hunter  and  a  keen  observer,  told  me  of  an 
even  more  remarkable  instance  that  he  had  seen.  He 
was  shooting  in  the  Congo  and  came  upon  four  big 
bulls.  One  he  killed  and  another  he  wounded.  The 
wounded  one  went  down  but  the  two  survivors  helped 
him  regain  his  feet,  and  with  one  on  each  side  helping 
him  the  three  moved  off.  Although  Major  Harrison 
followed  the  rest  of  the  day  he  was  not  able  to  catch 
up  with  them. 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


28 

I  did  not  see  the  end  of  their  efforts  to  raise  the 
bull  I  had  shot,  for  those  that  were  not  helping  him 
began  to  circle  about  with  their  ears  out  to  hear  any¬ 
thing  of  their  enemy  and  with  their  trunks  up  feeling 
for  my  wind.  They  were  moving  in  ever-increasing 
circles  which  threatened  to  envelop  my  ant-hill,  and 
I  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  Not  long  after  they  evidently 
were  convinced  that  the  bull  was  dead  and  all  to¬ 
gether  they  moved  away.  I  then  went  to  the  body. 
He  was  dead,  but  as  we  approached  there  was  a  reflex 
action  which  twitched  his  trunk  from  time  to  time. 
This  frightened  the  gun  boys  so  that  I  went  up  and 
slapped  the  elephant's  eye,  the  customary  test,  and 
as  there  was  no  reaction  the  boys  were  convinced. 
When  I  looked  the  carcass  over  I  was  disappointed 
to  find  that  only  one  of  his  tusks  was  big  and  well 
developed.  The  other  was  smaller,  and  out  of  shape 
from  an  injury;  consequently  I  decided  not  to  take 
him  for  the  museum  group.  He  was,  however,  a 
good  deal  of  a  temptation,  for  he  was  one  of  the  larg¬ 
est  elephants  I  had  ever  seen,  measuring  eleven  feet 
four  inches  to  the  top  of  his  shoulders,  and  the  circum¬ 
ference  of  his  front  foot  was  sixty-seven  and  a  half 
inches.  To  the  best  of  my  knowledge  this  is  a  record 
size  by  about  four  inches.  I  did  not  even  skin  him 
but  contented  myself  with  taking  his  tusks,  which  I 
sold  for  nearly  $500  without  even  going  down  to 
Nairobi. 

The  phenomenon  of  elephants  helping  each  other 
when  wounded  is  not  general  by  any  means.  Only  a 
few  days  after  shooting  the  big  bull  I  had  an  instance 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  a9 

of  elephants  abandoning  one  of  their  number  that 
was  wounded  and  not  very  badly  wounded,  either. 

I  had  gone  into  the  forest  again,  and  had  come  upon 
another  bunch  in  very  thick  country.  I  could  only 
get  little  glimpses  of  a  patch  of  hide  or  ivory  once  in 
a  while.  After  working  along  with  them  for  a  while 
in  the  hope  of  getting  into  more  open  ground  I  tried 
the  experiment  of  beating  on  the  tree  trunks  with 
sticks.  This  was  new  to  them  as  it  was  to  me.  I 
felt  sure  it  would  make  them  run  but  I  wasn’t  sure 
whether  they  would  go  toward  it  or  away  from  it. 
Happily  they  bolted  from  the  forest  into  the  high 
grass,  grumbling  all  the  while.  I  followed  as  closely 
as  I  dared  until  finally,  in  hope  of  getting  a  view  over 
the  top  of  the  high  grass,  I  started  to  climb  a  tree. 
Just  then  they  rushed  back  into  the  forest,  fortu- 
nately  to  one  side  of  me.  I  thought  it  was  time  to 
quit,  so  we  started  back  to  camp.  At  that  moment 
I  heard  another  group  of  elephants.  They  were  com¬ 
ing  out  of  the  forest  into  the  grass.  I  climbed  up 
an  ant-hill  where  I  could  see  them  as  they  passed  over 
a  ridge.  There  were  eleven  of  them  and  not  a  speci¬ 
men  that  I  wanted  among  them.  I  stood  watching 
to  see  what  would  happen  next.  They  were  about 
three  hundred  yards  away  when  they  got  my  wind. 
Back  they  came,  rumbling,  trumpeting,  and  squeal- 
.  in8-  I  knew  that  I  had  trouble  on  my  hands.  The 
only  thing  for  me  to  do  was  to  stick,  for  if  I  got  down 
in  the  tall  grass  I  couldn’t  see  anything  at  all.  They 
came  up  over  a  hill,  but  they  were  not  coming  straight 
toward  me  and  it  looked  as  if  they  would  pass  me  at 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


30 

forty  or  fifty  yards;  but,  unfortunately,  the  cow  in 
front  saw  me  standing  in  full  view  on  my  ant-hill 
pedestal.  They  turned  straight  at  me.  When  the 
leading  cow  was  as  close  as  I  wanted  her  to  get — * 
about  twenty-five  yards — I  fired.  She  hesitated  but 
again  surged  on  with  the  others.  A  second  shot 
knocked  her  down.  The  rest  surged  past  her,  turned, 
smelled  of  her,  and  ran  off  into  the  forest.  After  a 
few  minutes  she  got  upon  her  feet  and  rather  groggily 
went  off  after  them. 

Elephants  have  the  reputation  of  having  very  bad 
eyesight.  I  personally  am  of  the  opinion  that  their 
sight  is  pretty  good,  but  on  this  subject,  as  on  most 
others  about  elephants,  information  is  neither  com¬ 
plete  nor  accurate.  But  my  experience  makes  me 
think  that  they  can  see  pretty  well.  In  this  case  the 
cow  that  saw  me  was  only  about  fifty  yards  away,  but 
at  another  time  on  the  Uasin  Gishu  Plateau  an  ele¬ 
phant  herd  charged  me  from  250  yards  with  the  wind 
from  them  to  me.  The  behaviour  of  this  particular 
herd  gave  me  a  clue  to  their  reputation  for  bad  eye¬ 
sight.  The  elephant  is  not  afraid  of  any  animal  ex¬ 
cept  man,  and  consequently  he  is  not  on  the  alert 
for  moving  objects  as  are  animals  that  are  hunted. 
Neither  does  he  eat  other  animals,  so  he  is  not  inter¬ 
ested  in  their  movements  as  a  hunter.  In  fact,  he 
isn’t  normally  particularly  interested  in  moving  ob¬ 
jects  at  all.  He  pays  no  attention.  When  we  first 
came  up  with  this  herd  on  the  Uasin  Gishu  Plateau 
we  could  move  around  within  fifty  yards  of  them 
without  attracting  their  attention.  However,  after 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  31 

they  got  our  wind  and  recognized  us  as  enemies,  they 
were  able  to  see  us  at  a  distance  of  250  yards,  and 
charge  us. 

But  however  good  the  elephant’s  sight,  it  is  noth¬ 
ing  in  comparison  with  his  smelling  ability.  An  ele¬ 
phant’s  trunk  is  probably  the  best  smelling  apparatus 
in  the  world,  and  he  depends  on  his  sense  of  smell 
more  than  on  any  other  sense.  When  he  is  at  all 
suspicious  he  moves  his  trunk  around  in  every  direc¬ 
tion  so  that  he  catches  the  slightest  taint  in  the  air, 
from  whichever  way  it  comes.  I  have  often  seen  ele¬ 
phants,  when  disturbed,  with  their  trunks  high  in  air 
reaching  all  around  for  my  wind.  I  likewise,  on  one 
occasion,  had  an  intimate  view  of  a  very  quiet  smell¬ 
ing  operation  by  which  an  old  cow  escaped  me.  I 
was  on  an  elephant  path  one  day  on  Mt.  Kenia  look¬ 
ing  for  an  elephant  I  had  heard,  when  my  gun-bearer 
gripped  my  shoulder  and  pointed  into  the  forest.  I 
looked  and  looked  but  could  see  nothing  but  the  trees. 
Finally  I  noticed  that  one  of  the  trees  diminished  in 
size  toward  the  ground  and  I  recognized  an  elephant’s 
trunk.  My  eyes  followed  it  down.  At  the  very  tip 
it  was  curled  back,  and  this  curled-back  part,  with 
the  nostrils  distended,  was  moving  slowly  from  side 
to  side  quietly  fishing  for  my  wind.  She  was  waiting 
concealed  beside  the  trail  to  pick  me  up  as  I  came 
along.  She  was  no  more  than  forty  feet  away,  but 
when  she  decided  to  give  up  and  moved  away,  I  could 
not  hear  her  going  although  it  was  a  dense  forest 
and  she  was  accompanied  by  two  youngsters.  Very 
often  in  the  forest  where  there  is  very  little  air  stirring 


32  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

it  is  hard  to  tell  the  direction  of  the  wind.  I  used  to 
light  wax  taper  matches  as  tests,  for  they  could  be 
struck  without  any  noise  and  the  flame  would  show 
the  direction  of  the  slightest  breath  of  air. 

In  many  other  ways  besides  its  smelling  ability  the 
elephant’s  trunk  is  the  most  extraordinary  part  of 
this  most  extraordinary  animal.  A  man’s  arm  has  a 
more  or  less  universal  joint  at  the  shoulder.  The 
elephant’s  trunk  is  absolutely  flexible  at  every  point. 
It  can  turn  in  any  direction  and  in  whatever  position 
it  is,  and  has  tremendous  strength.  There  is  no  bone 
in  it,  of  course,  but  it  is  constructed  of  interwoven 
muscle  and  sinew  so  tough  that  one  can  hardly  cut 
it  with  a  knife.  An  elephant  can  shoot  a  stream  of 
water  out  of  it  that  would  put  out  a  fire;  lift  a  tree 
trunk  weighing  a  ton  and  throw  it  easily;  or  it  is 
delicate  enough  to  pull  a  blade  of  grass  with.  He 
drinks  with  it,  feeds  himself  with  it,  smells  with  it, 
works  with  it,  and  at  times  fights  with  it.  Incidentally, 
a  mouse  that  endeavoured  to  frighten  an  elephant 
by  the  traditional  nursery  rhyme  method  of  running 
up  his  trunk  would  be  blown  into  the  next  county. 
There  is  nothing  else  like  an  elephant’s  trunk  on  earth. 

And  for  that  matter,  there  is  nothing  else  like  the 
elephant.  He  has  come  down  to  us  through  the  ages, 
surviving  the  conditions  which  killed  off  his  earlier 
contemporaries,  and  he  now  adapts  himself  perfectly 
to  more  different  conditions  than  any  other  animal 
in  Africa. 

He  can  eat  anything  that  is  green  or  ever  has  been 
green,  just  so  long  as  there  is  enough  of  it.  He  can 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  33 

get  his  water  from  the  aloe  plants  on  the  arid  plains, 
or  dig  a  well  in  the  sand  of  a  dry  river  bed  with  his 
trunk  and  fore  feet,  and  drink  there,  or  he  is  equally 
at  home  living  half  in  the  swamps  of  better-watered 
regions.  He  is  at  home  on  the  low,  hot  plains  of  the 
seacoast  at  the  equator  or  on  the  cool  slopes  of  Kenia 
and  Elgon.  So  far  as  I  know,  he  suffers  from  no  con¬ 
tagious  diseases  and  has  no  enemies  except  man. 
There  are  elephants  on  Kenia  that  have  never  lain 
down  for  a  hundred  years.  Some  of  the  plains  ele¬ 
phants  do  rest  lying  down, but  no  one  ever  saw  a  Kenia 
elephant  lying  down  or  any  evidence  that  he  does  lie 
down  to  rest.  The  elephant  is  a  good  traveller.  On 
good  ground  a  good  horse  can  outrun  him,  but  on 
bad  ground  the  horse  would  have  no  chance,  and  there 
are  few  animals  that  can  cover  more  ground  in  a  day 
than  an  elephant.  And  in  spite  of  his  appearance,  he 
can  turn  with  surprising  agility  and  move  through 
the  forest  as  quietly  as  a  rabbit. 

An  elephant’s  foot  is  almost  as  remarkable  as  his 
trunk.  In  the  first  place,  his  foot  is  encased  in  a  ■' 
baglike  skin  with  a  heavy  padded  bottom,  with  some 
of  the  characteristics  of  an  anti-skid  tire.  An  ele¬ 
phant  walks  on  his  toes.  His  toes  form  the  front 
part  of  his  foot  and  the  bones  of  his  foot  run  not  only 
back  but  up.  Underneath  these  bones  at  the  back 
of  his  foot  is  a  gelatine-like  substance,  which  is  a  much 
more  effective  shock  absorber  than  rubber  heels  or 
any  other  device.  One  of  the  curious  things  about 
this  kind  of  a  foot  is  that  it  swells  out  when  the  weight 
is  on  it  and  contracts  when  the  weight  is  removed. 


34 


A  map  of  the  elephant  country  showing  Mt.  Elgon  and  Mt.  Kenia,  on  whose  slopes  Mr.  Akeley  has  hunted  elephants.  It  was  on 

Mt.  Kenia  that  Mr.  Akeley  was  mauled  by  an  old  bull 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  35 

As  a  consequence  an  elephant  may  sink  four  feet  into 
a  swamp  but  the  minute  he  begins  to  lift  his  legs,  his 
feet  will  contract  and  come  out  of  the  hole  they  have 
made  without  suction.  The  elephant’s  leg,  being 
practically  a  perpendicular  shaft,  requires  less  mus¬ 
cular  effort  for  him  to  stand  than  it  does  for  ordinary 
animals.  This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  he  can  go 
for  a  century  without  lying  down. 

A  country  that  elephants  have  long  inhabited  takes 
on  some  of  the  particular  interest  of  the  animals  them¬ 
selves.  I  believe  that  before  the  white  man  came  to 
East  Africa  the  elephant  was  nearly  as  much  a  plains 
animal  as  a  forest  animal,  but  he  now  tends  to  stay 
in  the  forests  where  the  risk  is  not  so  great.  On 
the  plains  there  are  no  elephant  paths  now,  if  there 
ever  were,  for  in  open  country  elephants  do  not  go 
in  single  file.  But  in  the  forests  there  are  elephant 
paths  everywhere.  In  fact,  if  it  were  not  for  the  ele¬ 
phant  paths  travel  in  the  forest  would  be  almost  im¬ 
possible,  and  above  the  forests  in  the  bamboo  country 
this  is  equally  true.  One  travels  practically  all  the 
time  on  their  trails  and  they  go  everywhere  except 
in  the  tree  ferns.  Tree  fern  patches  are  not  very 
extensive,  but  I  have  never  seen  an  elephant  track  or 
an  elephant  in  them.  The  elephants  are  constantly 
changing  the  paths  for  various  reasons;  among  others, 
because  the  natives  are  in  the  habit  of  digging  ele¬ 
phant  pits  in  the  trails.  But  there  are  some  trails 
that  have  evidently  been  used  for  centuries.  One 
time  we  had  followed  a  band  of  elephants  on  the 
Aberdare  Plateau  and  had  devilled  them  until  they 


36  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

began  to  travel  away.  We  followed  until  the  trail 
led  through  a  pass  in  the  mountains  and  we  realized 
that  they  were  going  into  a  different  region  altogether. 
That  trail  in  the  pass  was  a  little  wider  than  an  ele¬ 
phant’s  foot  and  worn  six  inches  deep  in  the  solid 
rock.  It  must  have  taken  hundreds  of  years  for  the 
shuffling  of  elephants  to  wear  that  rock  away. 

At  another  place  on  Kenia  I  found  an  elephant 
passage  of  a  stream  where  the  trail  was  twenty  feet 
wide.  Single  paths  came  in  from  many  directions  on 
one  side  of  the  stream  and  joined  in  this  great  boule¬ 
vard,  which  crossed  the  stream  and  broke  up  'again 
on  the  other  side  into  the  single  paths  radiating 
again  in  every  direction.  In  many  places  where  the 
topography  of  the  ground  is  such  that  there  is  only 
one  place  for  a  trail  there  will  be  unmistakable  evi¬ 
dence  that  the  trails  have  stayed  in  the  same  place 
many  years — such  as  trees  rubbed  half  in  two  by  the 
constant  passing  of  the  animals  or  damp  rocks  pol¬ 
ished  by  the  caress  of  their  trunks.  And  along  all 
the  trails,  old  and  new,  are  elephant  signs,  footprints, 
dung,  and  gobs  of  chewed  wood  and  bark  from  which 
they  have  extracted  the  juices  before  spitting  them 
out. 

But  finding  the  elephants  is  not  so  frequent  or  easy 
as  the  multiplicity  of  the  signs  would  indicate.  One 
reason  is  that  the  signs  of  elephants — tracks,  rubbed 
trees,  and  so  forth — are  more  or  less  enduring,  many 
of  them  being  very  plain  in  places  where  the  elephants 
have  not  been  for  months  or  even  years.  If,  however, 
you  come  on  fresh  elephant  tracks,  not  more  than  a 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  37 

day  old,  you  can  usually  catch  up  with  the  elephants, 
for  as  they  feed  along  through  the  country  they  do 
not  go  fast.  Only  if  they  are  making  a  trek  from  one 
region  to  another  it  may  take  much  longer  to  catch 
them. 

Once  up  with  an  elephant,  if  you  are  shooting,  you 
are  pretty  sure  that,  even  if  he  is  charging  you,  a 
bullet  from  an  elephant  gun,  hitting  him  in  the  head, 
will  stop  him  even  if  it  does  not  hit  him  in  a  vital 
spot.  Moreover,  if  you  stop  the  leader  of  a  bunch 
that  is  charging  you,  the  bunch  will  stop.  I  never 
heard  of  a  case  in  which  the  leader  of  an  elephant 
charge  was  stopped  and  the  others  kept  on,  and  I 
doubt  if  we  ever  will  hear  of  such  a  thing,  for  if  it 
does  happen  there  won’t  be  any  one  to  tell  about 
it.  It  is  unusual  for  an  elephant  to  keep  on  after 
being  hit  even  if  the  hit  does  not  knock  him  down. 
The  old  cow  that  charged  me  at  the  head  of  ten 
others  was  rather  the  exception  to  this  rule,  for  after 
my  first  shot  stopped  her  she  came  on  again  until  my 
second  shot  knocked  her  down.  But  I  had  one  ex-  1 
perience  that  was  entirely  at  variance  with  this  rule. 
One  old  bull  took  thirteen  shots  from  my  rifle  and 
about  as  many  from  Mrs.  Akeley’s  before  he  was 
content  either  to  die  or  run  away. 

In  Uganda,  after  six  months  in  the  up-country  after 
elephants,  we  decided  to  go  down  to  the  Uasin  Gishu 
Plateau  for  lion  spearing,  for  the  rainy  season  was 
beginning  and  the  vegetation  growing  so  thick  that 
elephant  hunting  was  getting  very  difficult.  On  the 
way  down  we  came  one  morning  upon  the  fresh  trail 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


38 

of  a  herd  of  elephants.  We  followed  for  about  two 
hours  in  a  high  bush  country  over  which  were  scat¬ 
tered  clumps  of  trees.  Finally  we  came  upon  the 
elephants  at  the  time  of  their  mid-day  siesta.  The 
middle  of  the  day  is  the  quietest  time  of  the  twenty- 
four  hours  with  elephants.  If  they  are  in  a  herd,  they 
will  bunch  together  in  the  shade.  They  do  not  stand 
absolutely  still,  but  mill  about  very  slowly,  changing 
positions  in  the  bunch  but  not  leaving.  They  are 
neither  feeding  nor  travelling  but,  as  nearly  as  they 
ever  do,  resting.  I  even  saw  a  young  bull  once  rest  his 
tusks  in  the  crotch  of  a  tree  during  this  resting  period. 
We  got  up  to  within  twenty-five  yards  of  them  behind 
some  bushes  down  the  wind.  We  finally  decided 
upon  one  of  the  bulls  as  the  target.  Mrs.  Akeley 
studied  carefully  and  shot.  The  bull  went  down,  ap¬ 
parently  dead.  Ordinarily,  we  should  rush  in  for  a 
finishing  shot,  but  in  this  case  the  rest  of  the  herd 
did  not  make  off  promptly,  so  we  stood  still.  When 
they  did  go  off  we  started  toward  the  apparently 
dead  animal.  As  we  did  so,  he  got  upon  his  feet 
and,  in  spite  of  a  volley  from  us,  kept  on  after  the 
herd.  We  followed,  and  after  half  an  hour’s  travel 
we  caught  sight  of  him  again.  We  kept  along  be¬ 
hind  him,  looking  for  a  place  where  we  could  swing 
out  to  one  side  and  get  abreast  to  fire  a  finishing  shot 
at  him.  He  was  moving  slowly  and  groggily.  It 
was  hard  to  move  anywhere  except  in  his  trail  without 
making  a  noise,  and  I  suddenly  discovered  that  the 
trail  was  turning  so  that  the  wind  was  from  us  to  him. 

Immediately  we  swung  off  to  one  side,  but  it  was  too 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  39 

late.  I  didn’t  see  him  when  he  got  our  wind  but  I 
knew  perfectly  he  had  it  for  there  was  the  sudden 
crash  of  his  wheel  in  the  bushes  and  a  scream.  An 
elephant’s  scream  is  loud  and  shrill  and  piercing.  And 
it  is  terrifying,  too — at  least  to  any  one  who  knows 
elephants — for  it  means  an  angry  animal  and  usually 
a  charge.  Then  came  a  series  of  grunts  and  rum¬ 
blings.  A  second  or  two  later  he  came  in  sight,  his 
ears  spread  out  twelve  feet  from  tip  to  tip,  his  trunk 
up  and  jerking  fiercely  from  side  to  side.  There  is  no 
way  of  describing  how  big  an  elephant  looks  under 
these  conditions,  or  the  speed  at  which  he  comes. 
At  about  thirty  yards  I  shot,  but  he  took  it.  He 
stopped,  seemingly  puzzled  but  unhurt.  I  shot  the 
second  barrel  and  looked  for  my  other  gun  which  was 
thirty  feet  behind  me.  The  boy  ran  up  with  it  and 
I  emptied  both  barrels  into  the  elephant’s  head,  and 
still  he  took  it  like  a  sand  hill.  In  the  meanwhile, 
Mrs.  Akeley  had  been  firing,  too.  And  then  he 
turned  and  went  off  again.  I  went  back  to  Mrs. 
Akeley.  Everything  that  I  knew  about  elephant 
shooting  had  failed  to  apply  in  this  case.  I  had 
stopped  him  with  one  shot.  That  was  normal 
enough.  But  then  I  had  put  three  carefully  aimed 
shots  into  his  head  at  short  range,  any  one  of  which 
should  have  killed  him.  And  he  had  taken  them  with 
only  a  slight  flinch  and  then  had  gone  off.  I  felt 
completely  helpless.  Turning  to  Mrs.  Akeley,  I  said: 

“This  elephant  is  pretty  well  shot  up,  and  perhaps 
we  had  better  wait  for  developments.” 

She  said:  “No,  we  started  it;  so  let’s  finish  it.” 


4o 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

I  agreed  as  we  reloaded,  and  we  were  about  to  start 
following  when  his  screaming,  grunting,  roaring  at¬ 
tack  began  again.  Exactly  the  same  thing  happened 
as  the  first  time  except  that  this  time  Mrs.  Akeley, 
the  boy,  and  I  were  all  together.  We  fired  as  we  had 
before.  He  stopped  with  the  first  shot  and  took  all 
the  others  standing,  finally  turning  and  retreating 
again.  Apparently  our  shots  had  no  effect  except 
to  make  him  stop  and  think.  I  was  sick  of  it,  for 
maybe  next  time  he  wouldn’t  stop  and  evidently  we 
couldn’t  knock  him  down.  We  had  about  finished 
reloading  when  we  heard  him  once  more.  There  was 
nothing  to  do  but  stand  the  charge,  for  to  run  was 
fatal.  So  we  waited.  There  was  an  appreciable  time 
when  I  could  hear  his  onrush  but  couldn’t  see  him. 
Then  I  caught  sight  of  him.  He  wasn’t  coming 
straight  for  us, but  was  charging  at  a  point  thirty  yards 
to  one  side  of  us  and  thrashing  back  and  forth  a  great 
branch  of  tree  in  his  trunk.  Why  his  charge  was  so 
misdirected  I  didn’t  know,  but  I  was  profoundly 
grateful.  As  he  ran  I  had  a  good  brain  shot  from  the 
side.  I  fired,  and  he  fell  stone  dead.  With  the 
greatest  sense  of  relief  in  the  world  I  went  over  to 
him.  As  I  stood  by  the  carcass  I  felt  very  small  in¬ 
deed.  Mrs.  Akeley  sat  down  and  drew  a  long  breath 
before  she  spoke. 

I  want  to  go  home,”  she  said  at  last,  “and  keep 
house  for  the  rest  of  my  life.” 

Then  I  heard  a  commotion  in  the  bush  in  front  of 
the  dead  elephant  and  as  I  looked  up  a  black  boy 
carrying  a  cringing  monkey  appeared.  Only  the 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES 


4i 

boy  wasn't  black.  He  was  scared  to  an  ashen  colour 
and  he  was  still  trembling,  and  the  monkey  was  as 
frightened  as  the  boy.  It  was  J.  T.  Jr.,  Mrs.  Akeley's 
pet  monkey,  and  Alii,  the  monkey's  nurse.  They 
had  followed  to  see  the  sport  without  our  knowledge, 
and  they  had  drawn  the  elephant's  last  charge. 

This  experience  with  an  animal  that  continued  to 
make  charge  after  charge  was  new  to  me.  It  has 
never  happened  again  and  I  hope  never  will,  but  it 
shows  that  with  elephants  it  isn't  safe  to  depend  on 
any  fixed  rule,  for  elephants  vary  as  much  as  people 
do.  This  one  was  the  heaviest-skulled  elephant  I 
ever  saw,  and  the  shots  that  I  had  fired  would  have 
killed  any  ordinary  animal.  But  in  his  case  all  but 
the  last  shot  had  been  stopped  by  bone. 

I  couldn't  measure  his  height,  but  I  measured  his 
ear  as  one  indication  of  his  size.  It  was  the  biggest 
I  ever  heard  of.  And  his  tusks  were  good  sized — 80 
pounds.  He  was  a  very  big  animal,  but  his  foot 
measurement  was  not  so  large  as  the  big  bull  of  the 
Budongo  Forest.  Later  I  made  a  dining  table  of 
his  ear,  supporting  it  on  three  tusks  for  legs.  With 
the  wooden  border  it  was  eight  feet  long  and  seated 
eight  people  very  comfortably. 

Most  wild  animals,  if  they  smell  man  and  have  an 
opportunity  to  get  away,  make  the  most  of  it.  Even 
a  mother  with  young  will  usually  try  to  escape  trouble 
rather  than  bring  it  on,  although,  of  course,  they  are 
quickest  to  fight.  But  elephants  are  not  always  in 
this  category.  In  the  open  it  has  been  my  experience 
that  they  would  rather  leave  than  provoke  a  fight;  if 


42  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

you  hunt  elephants  in  the  forest,  you  are  quite  likely 
to  find  that  two  can  play  the  hunting  game,  and  find 
yourself  pretty  actively  hunted  by  the  elephants.  If 
the  elephants  after  you  are  making  a  noise,  it  gives  you 
a  good  chance.  When  they  silently  wait  for  you,  the 
game  is  much  more  dangerous. 

The  old  bull,  who  is  in  the  centre  of  the  elephant 
group  in  the  Museum  of  Natural  History  now,  tried 
to  get  me  by  this  silent  method.  I  was  out  on  a  trail 
and  I  saw  that  a  big  bunch  of  animals  were  near.  I 
wasn’t  following  any  particular  trail  for  they  had 
moved  about  so  that  signs  were  everywhere  and  much 
confused.  Finally  I  came  to  a  gully.  It  wasn’t 
very  broad  or  very  deep,  but  the  trail  I  was  on  turned 
up  it  to  where  a  crossing  could  be  made  on  the  level. 
The  forest  here  was  high  and  very  thick,  and  conse¬ 
quently  it  was  quite  dark.  As  I  looked  up  the  trail  I 
saw  a  group  of  big  shapes  through  the  branches.  I 
thought  they  were  elephants  and  peered  carefully  at 
them,  but  they  turned  out  to  be  boulders.  A  minute 
later  I  saw  across  the  gully  another  similar  group  of 
boulders,  but  as  I  peered  at  them  I  saw  through  a 
little  opening  in  the  leaves,  plain  and  unmistakable, 
an  elephant’s  tusk.  I  watched  it  carefully.  It 
moved  a  little,  and  behind  it  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
other  tusk.  They  were  big,  and  I  decided  that  he 
would  do  for  my  group.  I  couldn’t  get  a  glimpse  of 
his  eye  or  anything  to  sight  by,  so  I  carefully  calcu¬ 
lated  where  his  brain  ought  to  be  from  the  place  where 
his  tusk  entered  his  head,  and  fired.  Then  there  was 
the  riot  of  an  elephant  herd  suddenly  starting.  A  few 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  43 

seconds  later  there  was  a  crash.  “He’s  down,” 
I  thought,  and  Bill,  the  gun  boy,  and  I  ran  over 
to  the  place  where  the  animals  had  been.  We  fol¬ 
lowed  their  tracks  a  little  way  and  found  where  one 
of  the  elephants  had  been  down,  but  he  had  re¬ 
covered  and  gone  on.  However,  he  had  evidently 
gone  off  by  himself  when  he  got  up,  for  while  the 
others  had  gone  down  an  old  trail  he  had  gone  straight 
through  the  jungle,  breaking  a  new  way  as  he  went. 
With  Bill  in  the  lead,  we  pushed  along  behind  him. 
It  was  a  curious  trail,  for  it  went  straight  ahead  with¬ 
out  deviation  as  if  it  had  been  laid  by  compass.  One 
hour  went  by  and  then  another.  We  had  settled 
down  for  a  long  trek .  The  going  wasn’t  very  good 
and  the  forest  was  so  thick  that  we  could  not  see  in 
any  direction.  We  were  pushing  along  in  this  fashion 
when,  with  a  crash  and  a  squeal,  an  elephant  burst 
across  our  path  within  fifteen  feet  of  us.  It  was  ab¬ 
solutely  without  warning,  and  had  the  charge  been 
straight  on  us  we  could  hardly  have  escaped.  As  it 
was,  I  fired  two  hurried  shots  as  he  disappeared  in  the 
growth  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  trail.  The  old 
devil  had  grown  tired  of  being  hunted  and  had 
doubled  back  on  his  own  trail  to  wait  for  us.  He 
had  been  absolutely  silent.  We  hadn’t  heard  a  thing, 
and  his  plan  failed,  I  think,  only  because  the  growth 
was  so  thick  that  he  charged  us  on  scent  or  sound 
without  being  able  to  see  us.  I  heard  him  go  through 
the  forest  a  way  and  then  stop.  I  followed  until  I 
found  a  place  a  little  more  open  than  the  rest,  and 
with  this  between  me  and  the  trees  he  was  in  I  waited. 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


44 

I  could  hear  him  grumbling  in  there  from  time  to 
time.  I  didn’t  expect  him  to  last  much  longer  so  I 
got  my  lunch  and  ate  it  while  I  listened  and  watched. 
I  had  just  finished  and  had  a  puff  or  two  on  my  pipe 
when  he  let  out  another  squeal  and  charged.  He 
evidently  had  moved  around  until  he  had  wind  of  me. 
I  didn’t  see  him  but  I  heard  him,  and  grabbing  the 
gun  I  stood  ready.  But  he  didn’t  come.  Instead  I 
heard  the  breaking  of  the  bushes  as  he  collapsed. 
His  last  effort  had  been  too  much  for  him. 

The  efforts  of  the  next  elephant  who  tried  the  quiet 
waiting  game  on  me  were  almost  too  much  for  me. 

We  had  just  come  down  from  the  ice  fields  seven¬ 
teen  thousand  feet  up  on  the  summit  of  Mt.  Kenia, 
overlord  of  the  game  regions  of  British  East  Africa, 
and  had  come  out  of  the  forest  directly  south  of  the 
pinnacle  and  within  two  or  three  miles  of  an  old  camp¬ 
ing  ground  in  the  temperate  climate,  five  or  six  thou¬ 
sand  feet  above  sea  level,  where  we  had  camped  five 
years  before  and  again  one  year  before.  Instead 
of  going  on  around  toward  the  west  to  the  base  camp 
we  decided  to  stop  here  and  have  the  base  camp 
brought  up  to  us.  Mrs.  Akeley  was  tired,  so  she  said 
she  would  stay  at  the  camp  and  rest;  and  I  decided 
to  take  advantage  of  the  time  it  would  take  to  bring 
up  the  base  camp  to  go  back  into  the  bamboo  and 
get  some  forest  photographs. 

There  was  perfectly  good  elephant  country  around 
our  camp  but  I  wanted  to  go  back  up  where  the 
forests  stop  and  the  bamboo  flourishes,  because  it 
was  a  bamboo  setting  that  I  had  selected  for  the  group 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  4S 

of  elephants  I  was  then  working  on  for  the  African 
Hall  in  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History. 
I  started  out  with  four  days’  rations,  gun  boys, porters, 
camera  men,  and  so  forth — fifteen  men  in  all.  The 
second  day  out  brought  me  to  about  nine  thousand 
feet  above  sea  level  where  the  bamboo  began.  Fol¬ 
lowing  a  well-worn  elephant  trail  in  search  of  this 
photographic  material,  I  ran  on  to  a  trail  of  three  old 
bulls.  The  tracks  were  old — probably  as  much  as 
four  days — but  the  size  was  so  unusual  that  I  decided 
to  postpone  the  photography  and  follow  them.  I 
did  not  expect  to  have  to  catch  up  their  four  days’ 
travel,  for  I  hoped  that  they  would  be  feeding  in 
the  neighbourhood  and  that  the  trail  I  was  on  would 
cross  a  fresher  trail  made  in  their  wanderings  around 
for  food.  I  had  run  upon  their  tracks  first  about 
noon.  I  followed  until  dark  without  finding  any 
fresher  signs.  The  next  morning  we  started  out  at 
daybreak  and  finally  entered  an  opening  such  as 
elephants  use  as  a  feeding  ground.  It  is  their  custom 
to  mill  around  in  these  openings,  eating  the  vegeta¬ 
tion  and  trampling  it  down  until  it  offers  little  more, 
and  then  move  on.  In  six  months  or  so  it  will  be 
grown  up  again  eight  or  ten  feet  high  and  they  are 
very  apt  to  revisit  it  and  go  through  the  same  proc¬ 
ess  again.  Soon  after  we  entered  this  opening  I 
came  suddenly  upon  fresh  tracks  of  the  elephants  I 
had  been  following.  Not  only  were  the  tracks  fresh 
but  the  droppings  were  still  steaming  and  I  knew  that 
the  animals  were  not  far  away;  certainly  they  had 
been  there  not  more  than  an  hour  before^  I  followed 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


4  6 

the  trail  amongst  the  low  bush  in  the  opening  but  it 
merely  wandered  about  repeatedly  bringing  me  back 
to  the  place  where  I  had  first  seen  the  fresh  tracks,  and 
I  realized  that  I  might  do  this  indefinitely  without 
getting  closer  to  the  elephants.  I  decided  to  go  out¬ 
side  the  opening  and  circle  around  it  to  see  if  I  could 
find  the  trail  of  my  bulls  as  they  entered  the  forest. 
This  opening  was  at  the  point  on  the  mountain  where 
the  forest  proper  and  the  bamboos  merged.  I  fol¬ 
lowed  an  elephant  path  out  of  the  opening  on  the 
bamboo  side  and  had  gone  but  a  little  way  when  I 
discovered  fresh  signs  of  my  three  bulls,  who  had 
evidently  left  the  opening  by  the  same  path  that  I 
was  following,  and  at  about  the  same  time  I  heard 
the  crackling  of  bamboo  ahead,  probably  about  two 
hundred  yards  away.  This  was  the  signal  for  prep¬ 
aration  for  the  final  stalk. 

I  stood  for  a  moment  watching  one  of  the  trackers 
going  up  the  trail  to  a  point  where  it  turned  at  right 
angles  in  the  direction  of  the  sounds  I  had  heard. 
There  he  stopped  at  rest,  having  indicated  to  me  by 
signs  that  they  had  gone  in  that  direction.  I  turned 
my  back  to  the  trail,  watching  the  porters  select  a 
place  to  lay  down  their  loads  amidst  a  clump  of  large 
trees  that  would  afford  some  protection  in  case  of  a 
stampede  in  their  direction.  The  gun  boys  came  for¬ 
ward  presenting  the  guns  for  inspection.  I  took  the 
gun  from  the  second  boy,  sending  him  back  with  the 
porters.  After  examining  this  gun  I  gave  it  to  the 
first  boy  and  took  his.  When  I  had  examined  this 
I  leaned  it  against  my  body  while  I  chafed  my  hands 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  47 

which  were  numb  from  the  cold  mists  of  the  morning, 
knowing  that  I  might  soon  need  a  supple  trigger 
finger.  During  this  time  the  first  gun  boy  was  taking 
the  cartridges,  one  by  one,  from  his  bandoleer  and 
holding  them  up  for  my  inspection — the  ordinary 
precaution  to  insure  that  all  the  ammunition  was  the 
right  kind,  and  an  important  insurance,  because  only 
a  full  steel-jacketed  bullet  will  penetrate  an  elephant's 
head.  While  still  warming  my  hands,  inspecting  the 
cartridges,  and  standing  with  the  gun  leaning  against 
my  stomach,  I  was  suddenly  conscious  that  an  ele¬ 
phant  was  almost  on  top  of  me.  I  have  no  knowledge 
of  how  the  warning  came.  I  have  no  mental  record 
of  hearing  him,  seeing  him,  or  of  any  warning  from 
the  gun  boy  who  faced  me  and  who  must  have  seen 
the  elephant  as  he  came  down  on  me  from  behind. 
There  must  have  been  some  definite  signal,  but  it  was 
not  recorded  in  my  mind.  I  only  know  that  as  I 
picked  up  my  gun  and  wheeled  about  I  tried  to  shove 
the  safety  catch  forward.  It  refused  to  budge,  and 
I  remember  the  thought  that  perhaps  I  had  left  the 
catch  forward  when  I  inspected  the  gun  and  that  if 
not  I  must  pull  the  triggers  hard  enough  to  fire  the 
gun  anyway.  This  is  an  impossibility,  but  I  remem¬ 
ber  distinctly  the  determination  to  do  it,  for  the  all- 
powerful  impulse  in  my  mind  was  that  I  must  shoot 
instantly.  Then  something  happened  that  dazed  me. 
I  don't  know  whether  I  shot  or  not.  My  next  mental 
record  is  of  a  tusk  right  at  my  chest.  I  grabbed  it 
with  my  left  hand,  the  other  one  with  my  right  hand, 
and  swinging  in  between  them  went  to  the  ground 


48  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

on  my  back.  This  swinging  in  between  the  tusks 
was  purely  automatic.  It  was  the  result  of  many  a 
time  on  the  trails  imagining  myself  caught  by  an 
elephant’s  rush  and  planning  what  I  would  do,  and  a 
very  profitable  planning,  too;  for  I  am  convinced  that 
if  a  man  imagines  such  a  crisis  and  plans  what  he 
would  do,  he  will,  when  the  occasion  occurs,  auto¬ 
matically  do  what  he  planned.  Anyway,  I  firmly  be¬ 
lieve  that  my  imaginings  along  the  trail  saved  my  life. 

He  drove  his  tusks  into  the  ground  on  either  side 
of  me,  his  curled-up  trunk  against  my  chest.  I  had 
a  realization  that  I  was  being  crushed,  and  as  I  looked 
into  one  wicked  little  eye  above  me  I  knew  I  could 
expect  no  mercy  from  it.  This  thought  was  perfectly 
clear  and  definite  in  my  mind.  I  heard  a  wheezy 
grunt  as  he  plunged  down  and  then — oblivion. 

The  thing  that  dazed  me  was  a  blow  from  the  ele¬ 
phant  s  trunk  as  he  swung  it  down  to  curl  it  back 
out  of  harm’s  way.  It  broke  my  nose  and  tore  my 
cheek  open  to  the  teeth.  Had  it  been  an  intentional 
blow  it  would  have  killed  me  instantly.  The  part 
of  the  trunk  that  scraped  off  most  of  my  face  was  the 
heavy  bristles  on  the  knuckle-like  corrugations  of  the 
skin  of  the  under  side. 

When  he  surged  down  on  me,  his  big  tusks  evidently 
struck  something  in  the  ground  that  stopped  them. 
Of  course  my  body  offered  practically  no  resistance 
to  his  weight,  and  I  should  have  been  crushed  as  thin 
as  a  wafer  if  his  tusks  hadn’t  met  that  resistance — 
stone,  root,  or  something — underground.  He  seems 
to  have  thought  me  dead  for  he  left  me — by  some  good 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  49 

fortune  not  stepping  on  me — and  charged  off  after 
the  boys.  I  never  got  much  information  out  of  the 
boys  as  to  what  did  happen,  for  they  were  not  proud 
of  their  part  in  the  adventure.  However,  there  were 
plenty  of  signs  that  the  elephant  had  run  out  into  the 
open  space  again  and  charged  all  over  it;  so  it  is 
reasonable  to  assume  that  they  had  scattered  through 
it  like  a  covey  of  quail  and  that  he  had  trampled  it 
down  trying  to  find  the  men  whose  tracks  and  wind 
filled  the  neighbourhood. 

Usually,  when  an  elephant  kills  a  man,  it  will  re¬ 
turn  to  its  victim  and  gore  him  again,  or  trample 
him,  or  pull  his  legs  or  arms  off  with  its  trunk.  I 
knew  of  one  case  where  a  man’s  porters  brought  in 
his  arm  which  the  elephant  that  had  killed  him  had 
pulled  off  his  body  and  left  lying  on  the  ground.  In 
my  case,  happily,  the  elephant  for  some  reason  did 
not  come  back.  I  lay  unconscious  for  four  or  five 
hours.  In  the  meanwhile,  when  they  found  the 
coast  was  clear,  the  porters  and  gun  boys  returned 
and  made  camp,  intending,  no  doubt,  to  keep  guard 
over  my  body  until  Mrs.  Akeley,  to  whom  they  had 
sent  word,  could  reach  me.  They  did  not,  however, 
touch  me,  for  they  believed  that  I  was  dead,  and 
neither  the  Swahili  Mohammedans  nor  the  Kikuyus 
will  touch  a  dead  man.  So  they  built  a  fire  and  hud¬ 
dled  around  it  and  I  lay  unconscious  in  the  cold 
mountain  rain  at  a  little  distance,  with  my  body 
crushed  and  my  face  torn  open.  About  five  o’clock 
I  came  to  in  a  dazed  way  and  was  vaguely  conscious 
of  seeing  a  fire.  I  shouted,  and  a  little  later  I  felt 


5o  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

myself  being  carried  by  the  shoulders  and  legs.  Later 
again  I  had  a  lucid  spell  and  realized  that  I  was  lying 
in  one  of  the  porter's  tents,  and  I  got  clarity  of  mind 
enough  to  ask  where  my  wife  was.  The  boys  an¬ 
swered  that  she  was  back  in  camp.  That  brought 
the  events  back  to  me,  how  I  had  left  her  at  camp, 
found  the  trail  of  the  three  old  bulls,  followed  them 
and,  finally,  how  I  was  knocked  out.  I  was  entirely 
helpless.  I  could  move  neither  my  arms  nor  legs  and 
I  reached  the  conclusion  that  my  back  was  broken. 
I  could  not  move,  but  I  felt  no  pain  whatever.  How¬ 
ever,  my  coldness  and  numbness  brought  to  my  mind 
a  bottle  of  cocktails,  and  I  ordered  one  of  the  boys  to 
bring  it  to  me.  My  powers  of  resistance  must  have 
been  very  low,  for  he  poured  all  there  was  in  the  bot¬ 
tle  down  my  throat.  In  the  intervals  of  conscious¬ 
ness,  also,  I  got  them  to  give  me  hot  bovril — a  British 
beef  tea — and  quinine.  The  result  of  all  this  was  that 
the  cold  and  numbness  left  me.  I  moved  my  arms. 
The  movement  brought  pain,  but  I  evidently  wasn't 
entirely  paralyzed.  I  moved  my  toes,  then  my  feet, 
then  my  legs.  “Why,"  I  thought  in  some  surprise, 
“my back  isn't  broken' at  all!"  So  before  I  dropped  off 
again  for  the  night  I  knew  that  I  had  some  chance  of 
recovery.  The  first  time  I  regained  consciousness 
in  the  morning,  I  felt  that  Mrs.  Akeley  was  around. 
I  asked  the  boys  if  she  had  come.  They  said  no, 
and  I  told  them  to  fire  my  gun  every  fifteen  minutes. 
Then  I  dropped  off  into  unconsciousness  again  and 
awoke  to  see  her  sitting  by  me  on  the  ground. 

When  the  elephant  got  me,  the  boys  had  sent  two 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  5I 

runners  to  tell  Mrs.  Akeley.  They  arrived  about  six 
in  the  evening.  It  was  our  custom  when  separated 
to  send  notes  to  each  other,  or  at  least  messages. 
When  these  boys  came  on  to  say  that  an  elephant 
had  got  me,  and  when  she  found  that  there  was  no 
word  from  me,  it  looked  bad.  Mrs.  Akeley  sent  word 
to  the  nearest  government  post  for  a  doctor  and 
started  her  preparations  to  come  to  me  that  night. 
She  had  to  go  after  her  guides,  even  into  the  huts  of 
a  native  village,  for  they  did  not  want  to  start  at 
night.  Finally,  about  midnight,  she  got  under  way. 
She  pushed  along  with  all  speed  until  about  daybreak, 
when  the  guides  confessed  that  they  were  lost.  At 
this  juncture  she  was  sitting  on  a  log,  trying  to  think 
what  to  do  next.  And  then  she  heard  my  gun.  She 
answered,  but  it  was  more  than  an  hour  before  the 
sounds  of  her  smaller  rifle  reached  our  camp.  And 
about  an  hour  after  the  boys  heard  her  gun  she  ar¬ 
rived. 

She  asked  me  how  I  was,  and  I  said  that  I  was  all 
right.  I  noticed  a  peculiar  expression  on  her  face. 
If  I  had  had  a  looking  glass,  I  should  probably  have 
understood  it  better.  One  eye  was  closed  and  the 
forehead  over  it  skinned.  My  nose  was  broken  and 
my  cheek  cut  so  that  it  hung  down,  exposing  my  teeth. 
I  was  dirty  all  over,  and  from  time  to  time  spit  blood 
from  the  hemorrhages  inside.  Altogether,  I  was  an 
unlovely  subject  and  looked  hardly  worth  saving. 
But  I  did  get  entirely  over  it  all,  although  it  took  me 
three  months  in  bed.  The  thing  that  was  serious  was 
that  the  elephant  had  crushed  several  of  my  ribs 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


5* 

into  my  lungs,  and  these  internal  injuries  took  a  long 
time  to  heal.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  don’t  suppose  I 
would  have  pulled  through  even  with  Mrs.  Akeley’s 
care  if  it  hadn’t  been  for  a  Scotch  medical  missionary 
who  nearly  ran  himself  to  death  coming  to  my  rescue. 
He  had  been  in  the  country  only  a  little  while  and 
perhaps  this  explains  his  coming  so  fast  when  news 
reached  him  of  a  man  who  had  been  mauled  by  an 
elephant.  The  chief  medical  officer  at  Fort  Hall, 
knowing  better  what  elephant  mauling  usually  meant, 
came,  but  he  didn’t  hurry.  I  saw  him  later  and  he 
apologized,  but  I  felt  no  grievance.  I  understood  the 
situation.  Usually  when  an  elephant  gets  a  man  a 
doctor  can’t  do  anything  for  him. 

But  this  isn’t  always  so.  Some  months  later  I  sat 
down  in  the  hotel  at  Nairobi  with  three  other  men, 
who  like  myself  had  been  caught  by  elephants  and 
had  lived  to  tell  the  tale.  An  elephant  caught  Black 
in  his  trunk,  and  threw  him  into  a  bush  that  broke 
his  fall.  The  elephant  followed  him  and  stepped  on 
him,  the  bush  this  time  forming  a  cushion  that  saved 
him,  and  although  the  elephant  returned  two  or  three 
times  to  give  him  a  final  punch,  he  was  not  killed. 
However,  he  was  badly  broken  up. 

Outram  and  a  companion  approached  an  elephant 
that  was  shot  and  down,  when  the  animal  suddenly 
rose,  grabbed  Outram  in  his  trunk  and  threw  him. 
The  elephant  followed  him,  but  Outram  scrambled 
into  the  grass  while  the  elephant  trampled  his  pith 
helmet  into  the  ground,  whereupon  Outram  got  right 
under  the  elephant’s  tail  and  stuck  to  this  position 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  53 

while  the  elephant  turned  circles  trying  to  find  him, 
until,  becoming  faint  from  his  injuries,  Outram  dived 
into  the  grass  at  one  side.  Outranks  companion 
by  this  time  got  back  into  the  game  and  killed  the 
elephant. 

Hutchinson’s  story  I  have  forgotten  a  little  now, 
but  I  remember  that  he  said  the  elephant  caught  him, 
brushed  the  ground  with  him,  and  then  threw  him. 
The  elephant  followed  him  and  Hutchinson  put  off 
fate  a  few  seconds  by  somehow  getting  amongst  the 
elephant’s  legs.  The  respite  was  enough,  for  the 
gun  boy,  by  this  time,  began  firing  and  drove  the 
elephant  off. 

In  all  of  these  cases,  unlike  mine,  the  elephants  had 
used  their  trunks  to  pick  up  their  victims  and  to  throw 
them,  and  they  had  intended  finishing  them  by  tram¬ 
pling  on  them.  This  use  of  the  trunk  seems  more 
common  than  the  charge  with  the  tusks  that  had  so 
nearly  finished  me.  Up  in  Somaliland  Dudo  Muh- 
ammud,  my  gun  boy,  showed  me  the  spot  where  he 
had  seen  an  elephant  kill  an  Italian  prince.  The 
elephant  picked  the  prince  up  in  his  trunk  and  beat 
him  against  his  tusks,  the  prince,  meanwhile,  futilely 
beating  the  elephant’s  head  with  his  fists.  Then  the 
elephant  threw  him  upon  the  ground,  walked  on  him, 
and  then  squatted  on  him,  rubbing  back  and  forth 
until  he  had  rubbed  his  body  into  the  ground. 

But  elephants  do  use  their  tusks  and  use  them 
with  terrible  effect.  About  the  time  we  were  in  the 
Budongo  Forest,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Longdon  were  across 
Lake  Albert  in  the  Belgian  Congo.  One  day  Longdon 


54  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

shot  a  bull  elephant  and  stood  watching  the  herd 
disappear,  when  a  cow  came  down  from  behind, 
unheard  and  unseen,  ran  her  tusk  clear  through  him 
and,  with  a  toss  of  her  head,  threw  him  into  the  bush 
and  went  on.  Longdon  lived  four  days. 

But  although  the  elephant  is  a  terrible  fighter  in 
his  own  defence  when  attacked  by  man,  that  is  not 
his  chief  characteristic.  The  things  that  stick  in  my 
mind  are  his  sagacity,  his  versatility,  and  a  certain 
comradeship  which  I  have  never  noticed  to  the  same 
degree  in  other  animals.  I  like  to  think  of  the  picture 
of  the  two  old  bulls  helping  along  their  comrade 
wounded  by  Major  Harrison’s  gun;  to  think  of  several 
instances  I  have  seen  of  a  phenomenon,  which  I  am 
sure  is  not  accidental,  when  the  young  and  husky 
elephants  formed  the  outer  ring  of  a  group  protecting 
the  older  ones  from  the  scented  danger.  I  like  to  think 
back  to  the  day  I  saw  the  group  of  baby  elephants 
playing  with  a  great  ball  of  baked  dirt  two  and  a  half 
feet  in  diameter  which,  in  their  playing,  they  rolled 
for  more  than  half  a  mile,  and  the  playfulness  with 
which  this  same  group  teased  the  babies  of  a  herd  of 
buffalo  until  the  cow  buffaloes  chased  them  off.  I 
think,  too,  of  the  extraordinary  fact  that  I  have  never 
heard  or  seen  African  elephants  fighting  each  other. 
They  have  no  enemy  but  man  and  are  at  peace 
amongst  themselves. 

It  is  my  friend  the  elephant  that  I  hope  to  perpetu¬ 
ate  in  the  central  group  in  the  Roosevelt  African  Hall 
as  it  is  now  planned  for  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History — a  hall  with  groups  of  African  ani- 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  55 

mal  skins  mounted  on  sculptured  bodies,  with  back¬ 
grounds  painted  from  the  country  itself.  In  this, 
which  we  hope  will  be  an  everlasting  monument  to 
the  Africa  that  was,  the  Africa  that  is  now  fast  disap¬ 
pearing,  I  hope  to  place  the  elephant  group  on  a 
pedestal  in  the  centre  of  the  hall — the  rightful  place 
for  the  first  animal  of  them  all. 

And  it  may  not  be  many  years  before  such  museum 
exhibits  are  the  only  remaining  records  of  my  jungle 
friends.  As  civilization  advances  in  Africa,  the 
extinction  of  the  elephant  is  being  accomplished 
slowly  but  quite  as  surely  as  that  of  the  American 
buffalo  two  generations  ago.  It  is  probably  not  true 
that  the  African  elephant  cannot  be  domesticated. 
In  fact,  somewhere  in  the  Congo  is  a  farm  where  fifty 
tame  elephants,  just  as  amenable  as  those  in  India, 
are  at  work.  But  taming  elephants  is  not  a  sound 
proposition  economically.  Elephant  farming  is  a 
prince's  game,  and  Africa  has  no  princes  to  play  it. 
An  elephant  requires  hundreds  of  acres  of  land,  in¬ 
finitely  more  than  cattle  and  sheep  and  the  other 
domesticated  animals.  So  it  is  that  as  man  moves  on 
the  land,  the  elephant  must  move  off. 

Moreover,  African  settlers  are  making  every  effort 
to  hasten  the  process.  Wherever  the  elephants  refuse 
to  be  confined  to  their  bailiwicks  and  annoy  the  na¬ 
tives  by  raiding  their  farms,  the  Government  has  ap¬ 
pointed  official  elephant  killers.  The  South  African 
elephant  in  the  Addoo  bush  was  condemned  to  be 
exterminated  several  years  ago.  Here,  however,  the 
hunters  sent  into  the  bush  to  kill  them  off  found  the 


56  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

elephant  too  much  for  them  and  finally  gave  up  the 
attempt.  Now  they  are  being  shot  only  as  they  come 
out  to  molest  the  natives,  with  the  result  that  they 
are  able  to  persist  in  the  bush  in  limited  numbers. 
Uganda  also  has  official  elephant  killers  wherever 
the  elephants  make  trouble  in  the  natives'  gardens. 
In  British  East  Africa  and  in  Tanganyika  a  similar 
situation  exists.  The  game  must  eventually  disappear 
as  the  country  is  settled,  and  with  it  will  be  wiped  out 
the  charm  of  Africa. 

We  had  heard  much  of  Ruindi  Plains  in  the  Belgian 
Congo  as  the  wonderful  game  country  that  it  no  doubt 
used  to  be.  To  me  it  seems  avast  graveyard.  There, 
too,  commercialism  has  played  its  part  in  exterminat¬ 
ing  the  animals  and,  while  we  found  two  or  three 
species  of  antelope  and  many  lions,  other  large  game 
is  very  rare.  I  suppose  that  the  Ruindi  Valley  was 
discovered  among  the  last  of  the  great  game  pockets 
and  that  ivory  poachers  are  responsible  for  the  disap¬ 
pearance  of  much  of  the  other  game  as  well  as  of  the 
elephant.  The  forested  valley,  which  I  went  through 
for  perhaps  ten  miles,  carried  every  evidence  of  having 
been  a  wonderful  game  country  in  the  past,  but  only 
a  pitiful  remnant  of  the  splendid  animals  who  once 
made  it  their  home  remains.  Along  great  elephant 
boulevards,  all  overgrown,  weaving  through  the 
forest,  one  may  occasionally  track  a  single  elephant 
or  a  small  band.  A  small  herd  of  buffalo  grazes 
where  a  few  years  ago  there  were  great  numbers. 

In  our  journey  north  from  Cape  Town  by  rail  we 
saw  not  a  single  head  of  game  until  we  reached  the 


ELEPHANT  FRIENDS  AND  FOES  57 

Lualaba  River,  and  during  the  five  days  that  we  spent 
going  down  that  river  we  saw  only  a  few  antelope, 
perhaps  a  half  dozen  elephants  and,  as  I  remember  it, 
two  or  three  hippopotami.  On  the  entire  journey 
to  within  fifty  miles  of  Lake  Edward  and  in  all  our 
hunting  we  found  signs  of  only  a  few  small  bands  of 
elephants.  Men  have  spoken  of  darkest  Africa,  but 
the  dark  chapters  of  African  history  are  only  now 
being  written  by  the  inroads  of  civilization. 


CHAPTER  III 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS 


(OR  many  thousands  of  years  lions  have  ap- 
peared  in  literature  and  art  as  savage  and 
ferocious  animals.  For  about  that  length  of 
time  man  has  been  attacking  lions  and  when  the 
lions  fought  back  man  has  set  down  this  judgment 
against  them.  At  the  same  time,  with  the  criticism 
of  his  savagery,  man  has  put  in  all  his  records  testi¬ 
mony  to  the  courage,  strength,  and  fighting  qualities 
of  what  has  been  called  through  the  ages  the  King 
of  Beasts. 

The  lion’s  savagery  is  very  much  the  same  as  man’s 
— that  is,  he  kills  other  animals  for  food  and  not 
having  developed  any  specialized  industries  like  the 
packers,  each  lion  kills  for  himself.  His  day’s  work, 
instead  of  getting  money  to  buy  food,  consists  chiefly 
in  getting  food,  and  he  goes  about  it  something  in 
this  manner.  About  dusk  he  comes  out  from  his 
resting  place,  yawns,  stretches,  and  looks  about  for 
something  to  eat.  In  East  Africa  his  favourite  diet 
is  zebra,  but  he  likes  any  of  the  game  animals,  and 
he  prefers  the  larger  animals  to  the  smaller  antelope 
because  the  larger  ones  are  easier  to  catch.  His  in¬ 
tention  is  to  get  his  food  the  easiest  and  quickest  way. 
He  goes  out  on  the  plains  and  by  scent,  sight,  and 

58 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  59 

hearing  locates  a  herd  of  zebra,  for  example.  He  then 
gets  down  wind  from  what  he  hopes  will  be  his  next 
meal  and  stalks  to  within  rushing  distance.  He  can 
outrun  a  zebra  for  a  short  distance,  and  when  within 
striking  distance  he  makes  a  sudden  dash.  I  think 
that  the  zebra  is  thrown  by  the  lion’s  spring  and  then 
killed  by  a  bite  in  the  back  of  the  neck,  but  this  im¬ 
pression  is  from  deduction  and  not  from  observation. 
I  have  seen  a  lot  of  animals  that  lions  had  killed  but 
I  never  saw  a  lion  in  the  act  of  killing.  In  fact,  the 
methods  which  lions  use  in  hunting  are  not  known  in 
detail  from  observation,  for  not  enough  instances  have 
ever  been  witnessed  and  recorded  to  make  the  basis 
for  any  general  statement  which  could  be  considered 
scientifically  accurate. 

When  he  has  captured  his  animal  the  lion  will  eat 
and  then  lie  near  it  perhaps  all  night,  perhaps  all  the 
next  day,  if  he  is  not  disturbed,  eating  as  he  desires. 
If  he  leaves  his  kill  the  jackals,  hyenas,  and  vul¬ 
tures  will  clean  it  up  immediately,  and  as  the  lion 
kills  for  food  and  not  for  sport  or  the  pleasure  of 
killing,  he  is  content  with  one  kill  as  long  as  the  meat 
lasts. 

The  lion  group,  as  I  have  designed  it  for  the  Roose¬ 
velt  African  Hall,  will  show  in  the  foreground  a 
trickling  stream  where  the  lions  have  come  at  dawn 
to  drink,  while,  at  a  distance  on  the  plains,  the  vul¬ 
tures  and  jackals  are  approaching  the  kill  the  lions 
have  just  left. 

Lion  hunters  are  not  agreed  about  how  much  lions 
depend  on  sight,  on  sound,  and  on  smell.  It  is  not 


60  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

altogether  easy  to  tell  how  soon  they  know  the  pres¬ 
ence  of  man  or  of  other  animals,  for  they  do  not  al¬ 
ways  show  what  they  know.  For  instance,  I  once 
had  the  startling  experience  of  getting  within  three 
feet  of  a  lioness  before  she  moved.  She,  of  course* 
knew  I  was  there  long  before  I  got  that  close,  and  yet 
until  I  almost  stepped  on  her  she  made  no  sign.  There 
is,  however,  no  question  but  that  the  lion  has  a  sharp, 
far  sight  in  the  daytime,  and  from  the  size  of  the  pupil 
and  his  nocturnal  habits  of  hunting  I  think  he  has 
unusually  keen  sight  at  night.  I  have  never  seen  any 
indication  that  a  lion  has  the  keen  smell  of  a  dog  or 
any  animal  that  hunts  by  scent,  nor  have  I  ever  seen 
anything  to  make  me  believe  that  he  has  any  ab¬ 
normal  sense  of  hearing. 

While  many  things  about  lions’  habits  are  con¬ 
troversial,  I  think  that  practically  everyone  who  has 
had  experience  with  them  will  agree  that  they  are 
not  savage  in  the  sense  of  killing  for  the  mere  sake  of 
killing.  There  are  a  few  isolated  cases  which  seem  to 
conflict  with  this  statement,  but  the  great  mass  of 
testimony  confirms  it.  There  was  a  seeming  excep¬ 
tion  to  this  rule  which  happened  to  an  English  travel¬ 
ler  and  his  wife  in  Somaliland.  They  were  intent  on 
getting  a  lion  by  baiting” — that  is,  they  killed  an 
animal  and  left  it  as  bait  for  the  lions  while  they  hid 
in  a  thorn  boma  which  they  built  near  by.  There  was 
only  a  small  hole  in  the  boma  through  which  to  watch 
and  shoot.  They  stationed  a  black  boy  at  this  hole 
to  watch  while  they  slept.  They  awoke  to  find  that  a 
lion  had  stuck  his  head  into  the  hole  and  killed  the 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  61 

black  boy — bitten  his  head  clear  off,  so  the  local  story 
goes.  However,  no  one  knows  why  the  lion  killed 
the  boy  in  this  case  for,  of  the  three  possible  witnesses, 
two  were  asleep  and  the  third  dead. 

It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  the  lion  deliberately 
attacked  the  boma  without  provocation,  but  it  seems 
unlikely,  for  lions  are  driven  to  these  extremities 
chiefly  by  hunger;  and  in  this  case  the  lion  could  have 
satisfied  his  hunger  by  the  bait  that  had  been  laid 
out  for  him.  The  usual  man-eater  is  an  old  lion,  who 
in  the  season  of  scattered  game  finds  it  impossible 
with  his  failing  strength  and  speed  to  catch  animals 
for  food.  To  keep  from  starving  he  attacks  the  na¬ 
tive  flocks  and  herds,  or  the  natives  themselves.  The 
most  famous  man-eaters,  the  lions  of  Tsavo,  which 
spread  such  terror  as  almost  to  stop  construction  on 
a  part  of  the  Uganda  railway,  were,  indeed,  an  excep¬ 
tion  to  the  rule.  Colonel  Patterson,  whose  classic 
account  of  them  is  one  of  the  great  animal  stories  of 
the  world,  accounted  for  these  young,  vigorous 
animals  becoming  man-eaters  because  some  of  the 
coolie  workers  who  died  were  put  in  the  bush  unburied 
and  the  lions  had  acquired  a  taste  for  human  flesh 
by  eating  these  bodies.  After  this  taste  was  acquired 
these  lions  hunted  men  just  as  the  ordinary  lion 
hunted  zebras.  They  made  a  regular  business  of  it. 
It  was  their  daily  fare,  and  they  took  a  terrible  toll 
before  they  were  finally  killed.  But  these  lions  were 
killing  for  food  just  as  if  they  were  killing  zebras. 

Even  when  forced  to  fight,  the  lion  is  not  vindictive. 
If  an  elephant  gets  a  man  he  is  likely  to  trample  on 


62 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


his  victim  and  mutilate  him  even  after  he  is  dead.  I 
have  never  known  of  lions  doing  this.  On  the  other 
hand,  as  soon  as  their  adversary  is  dead,  often  as  soon 
as  he  is  quiet,  they  will  let  him  alone.  The  game 
animals  on  which  the  lions  are  accustomed  to  feed 
corroborate  this  characteristic.  They  know  that  the 
lion  kills  for  food  at  night  and  they  likewise  know 
that  he  kills  only  for  food,  so  in  the  daytime  they  do 
not  bother  about  lions  particularly.  I  have  seen  lions 
trot  through  a  herd  of  game  within  easy  striking 
distance  of  many  of  the  animals  without  causing  any 
disturbance. 

So  far  as  I  know,  except  for  the  comparatively  few 
man-eaters,  lions  are  never  the  aggressors.  More 
than  that,  they  prefer  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  man 
rather  than  fight  him,  and  they  will  put  up  with  a 
good  deal  of  disturbance  and  inconvenience  and  even 
pain  before  they  will  fight.  But  once  decided  to 
fight  they  will  fight  with  an  amazing  courage  even  if 
there  are  plenty  of  opportunities  to  escape. 

I  had  an  experience  which  showed  both  these 
aspects  of  a  lion’s  nature.  Frederick  M.  Stephenson, 
John  T.  McCutcheon,  the  cartoonist,  Mrs.  Akeley, 
and  I  were  hunting  lions.  I  had  a  moving-picture 
camera  and  the  others  were  armed  with  guns.  One 
day  the  natives  rounded  up  a  lioness  in  a  patch  of 
uncommonly  tall,  thick  grass.  The  beaters  hesitated 
to  go  in  after  her,  so  I  took  a  gun  and  McCutcheon 
and  I  joined  the  porters,  leaving  Stephenson  and 
Mrs.  Akeley  outside.  The  grass  was  so  thick  that 
we  had  to  take  our  rifles  in  both  hands  and  push  the 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  63 

grass  down  in  front  of  us  and  then  walk  on  it.  We 
had  made  some  progress  in  this  manner  when  sud¬ 
denly,  as  we  were  pushing  down  the  grass,  it  was 
thrown  violently  back,  jerking  our  rifles  up  and  almost 
throwing  us  over.  It  was  the  lioness.  We  had 
pressed  the  grass  down  right  on  her  back.  Yet  de¬ 
spite  this  intrusion  she  made  off  and  did  not  attack 
us. 

As  she  went  out  of  the  grass  into  the  open,  Stephen¬ 
son  shot  at  her  and  missed.  Some  of  the  boys  rode 
after  her  on  horseback  and  rounded  her  up  in  another 
patch  of  cover.  By  this  time,  however,  her  patience 
had  run  out.  She  could  have  run  some  more  had  she 
wanted  to,  but  she  didn't  want  to.  When  Stephen¬ 
son  approached  the  cover  with  his  gun  boys  she  took 
the  initiative  and  charged.  His  first  shot  stopped 
her  a  second,  but  she  came  on  again.  His  second 
shot  killed  her. 

My  first  black-maned  lion  showed  the  same  char¬ 
acteristics.  He,  too,  preferred  peace  to  war,  although 
I  originally  disturbed  him  with  his  kill,  but  finally, 
when  he  declared  war,  although  he  was  badly 
wounded,  he  preferred  to  charge  two  white  men  and 
thirty  natives  rather  than  try  to  escape. 

I  had  gone  up  on  the  Mau  Plateau  to  shoot  topi. 
The  plateau  is  about  8,000  feet  above  sea  level  there 
and  I  didn’t  expect  to  find  any  lions.  One  day  I 
discovered  two  topi  in  a  little  valley  between  two 
gentle  rises.  I  was  crawling  up  to  the  top  of  one  of 
the  rises  overlooking  the  valley  to  get  a  shot  when  I 
noticed  some  movement  in  the  grass  on  the  slope 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


64 

opposite.  I  thought  it  was  another  topi.  As  I 
raised  myself  a  little  to  shoot  I  noticed  that  the  origi¬ 
nal  pair  that  I  was  hunting  were  gazing  with  fixed 
attention  toward  some  movement  on  the  far  hillside. 
I  looked  again  and  saw  an  old  lion  get  up  and  walk 
to  the  top  of  the  hill,  turn  round  facing  me,  and  lie 
down  to  watch  the  valley  from  his  side  as  I  was  watch¬ 
ing  it  from  mine.  We  were  about  400  yards  from 
each  other.  In  the  valley  between  were  the  topi ,  and 
also  I  noticed  a  dead  zebra.  Evidently  I  had  dis¬ 
turbed  him  at  his  previous  night's  kill.  My  pony 
and  gun  boys  were  some  distance  behind  and  I  had 
only  one  cartridge  left  in  my  double-barrelled  cordite 
rifle.  Under  these  conditions  I  reluctantly  decided 
to  go  back  for  proper  equipment.  My  reluctance 
was  not  merely  at  losing  a  lion  but  at  losing  that 
particular  lion,  for  he  had  a  great  black  mane  and  no 
one  had  killed  a  black-maned  lion  in  that  part  of 
Africa. 

By  the  time  I  got  back  with  my  cartridges  and  the 
gun  boys,  he  had  disappeared.  We  began  beating 
about  to  see  if  we  could  find  him  or  his  trail,  but  with¬ 
out  success.  We  did,  however,  find  the  remains  of 
several  kills,  which  led  me  to  think  that  this  single  old 
fellow  had  found  the  neighbourhood  good  hunting, 
and  was  making  a  more  or  less  prolonged  stay.  Un¬ 
der  the  circumstances  I  felt  it  wise  to  go  to  camp  and 
get  my  companion,  Shaw  Kennedy,  and  our  thirty 
beaters  to  hunt  him  out  the  next  day. 

Before  going,  however,  I  planned  a  campaign.  Not 
far  from  where  the  lion  had  been  a  ravine  began, 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  65 

which  ran  some  distance  and  ended  in  a  thick  piece 
of  forest.  The  sides  of  the  ravine  were  covered  with 
clumps  of  thick  bush.  Into  one  of  these  I  felt  sure 
the  lion  had  retreated.  Unless  closely  pushed  he 
would  not  go  into  the  forest.  My  plan  was  to  enter 
the  ravine  the  next  day  at  the  forest  end  so  that  he 
could  not  escape  to  safety  among  the  trees,  and  drive 
up  the  ravine  to  force  him  out  into  the  open. 

When  we  got  to  the  edge  of  the  forest  the  next 
morning  Kennedy  and  I  drew  lots  for  the  choice  of 
position.  He  won  and  chose  the  upper  end  of  the 
ravine  toward  which  we  were  to  drive,  while  I  was 
to  follow  up  behind  the  beaters  to  get  him  if  he  broke 
back.  Of  course  we  were  not  sure  that  our  quarry 
was  even  in  the  neighbourhood,  but  I  had  great  hope 
of  everything  except  getting  this  first  black-maned 
specimen  myself,  for  Kennedy's  position  made  it 
almost  certain  that  he  would  get  the  animal  if  any 
one  did.  The  first  patch  of  bush  that  the  beaters 
tackled  was  about  100  yards  long  and  50  yards  wide. 
As  they  set  up  their  usual  racket  before  entering  I 
thought  I  heard  a  lion’s  grunt,  but  as  nothing  more 
developed  I  concluded  it  had  been  merely  some  of 
the  boys.  This  patch  of  bush  was  a  mass  of  nettles, 
briers,  and  thorns,  and  made  exceedingly  disagreeable 
going.  The  porters  were  making  very  slow  progress, 
so  I  went  in  to  encourage  them.  However,  by  the 
time  we  were  halfway  through  I  was  so  scratched  and 
torn  that  I  quit  and  went  out  toward  the  bottom  of 
the  ravine.  The  briers  had  somewhat  cooled  my 
faith  in  the  theory  that  the  lion  was  in  the  ravine.  I 


66 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


sat  down  on  an  ant-hill  where  I  had  a  fair  view. 
Kennedy  fired  and  I  looked  quickly.  The  lion  which 
had  come  out  in  front  of  Kennedy  had  turned  and 
was  running  down  across  the  ravine  and  up  the  other 
side.  I  had  a  good  shot  at  him  and  the  bullet  knocked 
him  over.  However,  he  got  up  and  went  into  a  clump 
of  bush.  This  clump  just  filled  a  kind  of  pot  hole 
about  fifty  yards  in  diameter.  Kennedy  watched  one 
side  and  I  the  other  so  that  we  had  every  avenue  of 
escape  covered.  The  beaters  then  began  throwing 
stones  and  sticks  into  the  bush.  The  lion  made  no 
move.  He  might  be  dead  or  he  might  be  lying  close. 
We  wanted  to  know,  but  no  one  wanted  to  know  suf¬ 
ficiently  to  crawl  in  and  see.  Finally  Dudo,  my 
gun-bearer,  suggested  that  we  light  a  fire  and  make 
some  firebrands.  We  busied  ourselves  with  this.  In 
the  meanwhile,  there  was  no  response  from  the  lion. 
When  the  firebrands  were  ready  Dudo  asked  leave  to 
throw  the  first  one  for  he  maintained  that  he  knew 
where  the  lion  was.  Dudo  threw,  and  as  his  firebrand 
disappeared  in  the  brush  there  was  a  roar  and  a  shak¬ 
ing  of  the  bushes  that  told  exactly  where  the  beast 
was  hidden.  A  shower  of  firebrands  followed  but 
with  no  effect.  Then  the  boys  threw  rocks.  But 
nothing  resulted.  By  this  time  Kennedy  had  joined 
the  crowd.  All  the  beaters  and  both  of  us  were 
grouped  on  one  side  of  the  pot  hole.  Dudo  now  took 
a  small-bore  rifle  and  fired,  not  in  an  effort  to  kill 
the  lion  but  to  move  him.  It  succeeded,  and  he 
moved,  not  away  from  us  but  toward  us.  The  way 
of  retreat  was  open  but  he  didn’t  take  it.  Dudo 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  67 

fired  again,  and  again  the  bushes  moved  toward  us. 
Finally  the  old  fellow  was  so  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
brush  that  while  we  couldn't  see  him  he  undoubtedly 
could  see  us.  He  stood  looking  out  on  thirty  black 
men  and  two  white  men  in  front  of  a  great  fire — a 
crowd  of  his  enemies.  The  path  was  not  blocked  in 
any  other  direction.  He  looked  us  over  carefully 
for  fully  five  minutes  and  then  of  his  own  volition; 
with  a  great  roar,  he  charged  out  of  the  brush  and 
up  from  the  pot  hole.  Halfway  up  the  slope  the 
fatal  bullet  hit  him.  He  was  killed  charging  his 
enemies  and  without  thought  of  retreat — the  first 
black-maned  lion  ever  shot  in  British  East  Africa. 

He  was  old  and  had  been  through  various  vicissi¬ 
tudes.  At  one  time  he  had  had  a  leg  broken  but  it 
had  healed  perfectly.  The  tip  of  his  tail  was  gone 
also.  But  for  all  that  he  was  a  great  specimen. 

These  two  instances  are  fair  examples  of  the  usual 
method  of  hunting  lions  in  British  East  Africa.  Rid¬ 
ing  after  them  on  horseback  might  be  considered  a 
different  method  than  the  beating,  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  two  merge  into  each  other.  When  beat¬ 
ing,  the  lion  hunter  usually  rides  until  he  actually 
reaches  the  lion’s  cover,  and  if  he  runs  on  to  a 
lion  in  the  open  he  rides  after  it  until  the  su¬ 
perior  speed  of  the  horse  over  any  fair  distance  forces 
the  lion  to  stop  and  lie  down  at  bay.  And,  likewise, 
if  one  is  riding  after  lions  and  the  lion  gets  into  cover, 
the  game  is  up  unless  there  are  beaters  to  get  him  out. 

Paul  Rainey  introduced  an  added  element  to  the 
horseback  method  of  lion  hunting  when  he  imported 


68 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

his  lion  hounds.  I  call  them  lion  hounds  for  they 
chased  lions — that  is  the  only  thing  the  pack  had  in 
common.  It  included  curs,  collies,  airedales,  bear 
hounds  from  the  South,  and  almost  every  other  kind 
of  canine.  When  Rainey  and  the  hounds  appeared, 
the  Governor  of  East  Africa  remarked  that  the  lions 
were  going  to  get  some  good  dog  meat.  But  within 
a  couple  of  years  “hounding  lions”  was  stopped  be¬ 
cause  the  lions  fell  too  easy  a  prey  to  the  hounds  and 
hunters.  When  Rainey  took  his  hounds  there  no 
one  was  certain  how  the  lions  would  act,  and  it  was  a 
sporting  thing  to  try.  But  it  soon  developed — and 
Rainey,  who  is  a  thorough  sportsman,  was  one  of  the 
first  to  see  it — that  the  hounds  kept  the  lion  so  busy 
once  he  was  brought  to  bay  that  the  hunter  could  ap¬ 
proach  and  take  as  many  shots  as  necessary  with 
almost  perfect  immunity  from  a  charge.  It  is  not 
quite  accurate  to  say  that  Rainey  introduced  the 
practice  of  hunting  lions  with  dogs.  Foa,  the  French 
traveller,  speaks  of  the  practice  ten  years  before 
Rainey  went  to  Africa.  He  even  tried  to  organize  a 
pack.  His  pack  failed.  But  the  principle  of  having 
dogs  keep  the  lions  so  busy  that  they  would  not 
charge,  he  described  completely. 

Besides  these  daylight  methods  of  hunting  it  was 
a  common  practice  to  hunt  lions  at  night  by  baiting — 
that  is,  to  kill  an  animal  and  hide  near  it  in  the  hope 
that  a  lion  would  come  to  eat,  and  then  shoot  him. 
There  is  not  much  danger  in  this,  for  the  thorn  bomas , 
or  hiding  places,  are  a  good  protection,  and  the  lion 
would  not  be  likely  to  attack  any  one  unless  he  was 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  69 

shot  at  or  molested.  There  is,  of  course,  the  instance 
of  the  black  man  killed  in  the  boma  in  Somaliland,  but 
that  event  is  the  exception. 

As  a  method  of  killing  lions,  night  baiting  is  not 
very  sportsmanlike,  but  as  a  method  of  photographing 
it  is  not  only  legitimate  but  it  has  produced  by  far 
the  best  lion  pictures  ever  made  in  Africa — especially 
those  of  Schilling  and  A.  Radclyffe  Dugmore.  Rainey 
and  Buffalo  Jones  got  some  remarkable  moving  pic¬ 
tures  of  hunting  lions  with  dogs,  but  the  total  number 
of  all  pictures  of  live  lions  ever  taken  is  still  in  keeping 
with  the  small  amount  of  detailed  and  accurate  knowl¬ 
edge  of  lions’  habits  which  we  have.  To  my  mind 
the  finest  lion-hunting  picture  ever  taken  was  brought 
back  by  Lady  Grace  McKenzie.  Her  operator  got  a 
moving  picture  of  a  wounded  lion  charging.  It 
shows  the  lion’s  rush  from  the  bush  at  Lady  McKenzie 
and  her  companion — a  white  man.  It  shows  the 
man  turn  and  run  and  the  lion  rush  right  by  Lady 
McKenzie  after  him.  There  the  picture  ends.  On 
his  recent  trip  Martin  Johnson  got  a  motion  picture 
of  five  lions  crossing  the  plains,  one  of  which  was  shot 
by  Mr.  Johnson. 

But  neither  beating,  baiting,  nor  hounding  is  the 
really  sportsmanlike  method  of  hunting  lions  it  is 
spearing,  and  spearing  takes  a  black  man. 

.  One  time  in  Uganda,  after  I  had  been  under  a  con¬ 
siderable  strain  while  elephant  hunting,  I  decided  that 
I  needed  a  rest  and  a  change.  I  set  out  for  the  Uasin 
Gishu  Plateau  where  I  got  together  one  hundred 
Nandi  spearmen.  We  had  no  difficulty  in  getting 


70  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

volunteers,  for  they  were  to  be  paid  and  fed  for  play¬ 
ing  the  game  they  loved.  During  the  first  half  day 
out  from  the  government  station,  where  we  gathered 
our  force  together,  the  alarm  of  lion  was  sounded. 
We  were  approaching  a  patch  of  bush.  The  spear¬ 
men  entered  the  bush  from  all  sides.  I  placed  my 
motion-picture  camera  at  a  point  of  vantage.  The 
idea  was  to  drive  the  lion  out  in  front  of  the  camera 
and  have  the  spearmen  at  that  point  spear  him. 
Above  the  din  of  the  spearmen  in  the  bush  I  finally 
heard  the  angry  growl  of  a  leopard.  There  was  great 
excitement  in  the  bush  for  a  few  seconds.  Then  three 
of  the  boys  came  out  of  the  bush.  The  middle  boy 
of  the  three  was  being  carried  and  his  scalp  was  hang¬ 
ing  down  over  his  face.  Behind  this  trio  came  a  group 
carrying  the  dead  leopard.  Later,  when  his  skin  was 
stretched,  it  showed  sixty  spear  holes. 

I  promptly  took  the  wounded  boy  under  the  shade 
of  a  mimosa  tree,  shaved  him,  and  sewed  his  scalp 
back  into  place  and  cared  for  his  other  wounds.  He 
showed  little  interest  in  the  proceedings  beyond  ask¬ 
ing  a  question  of  the  other  black  boys  about  what  I 
was  doing.  Seemingly  the  whole  operation  was  over 
before  he  recovered  from  the  shock  of  his  mauling. 
The  next  morning  when  I  sent  him  home  he  was  much 
troubled.  He  said  that  he  had  not  committed  any 
offence  and  he  did  not  see  why  he  had  to  be  sent  home. 
His  wounds  did  not  seem  to  trouble  him  or  to  dampen 
the  ardour  of  the  others  in  the  slightest. 

We  went  on  for  a  week.  One  day,  just  as  we  were 
making  camp  near  a  waterfall,  an  alarm  wa9  sounded 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  71 

near  the  forest.  One  of  the  boys  had  seen  a  lion. 1  His 
whereabouts  was  discovered  after  much  beating  back 
and  forth.  I  got  my  camera  ready  as  before  at  the 
place  the  boys  thought  the  fight  would  take  place, 
but  the  lion  did  not  do  his  part.  He  broke  in  a  differ¬ 
ent  direction  and  another  bunch  of  spearmen  got  him 
two  hundred  yards  away.  It  was  so  exasperating  to 
have  something  prevent  this  most  exciting  of  all  movie 
photography  from  succeeding  that  I  almost  failed  to 
appreciate  the  courage  and  skill  of  the  spearmen. 

A  few  days  later,  soon  after  our  start  in  the  morn¬ 
ing,  Mrs.  Akeley  and  I  were  riding  ahead  of  the  pro¬ 
cession  when  we  met  several  lions  coming  out  of  the 
grass  and  bush  near  a  small  stream.  The  spearmen 
immediately  surrounded  the  bush  into  which  the 
lions  plunged.  The  lions  tried  to  escape,  but  in  what¬ 
ever  direction  any  lion  tried  to  go  a  spearman  bobbed 
up  out  of  the  grass  in  front  of  him.  That  is  a  simple 
statement,  but  to  jump  up  in  front  of  a  lion  or  three 
lions  with  nothing  but  a  spear  and  shield  as  protection 
is  a  thing  not  to  be  taken  lightly.  As  the  lions  sought 
one  escape  after  another,  and  found  each  closed,  they 
fought  it  out.  There  was  about  ten  minutes  of  pan¬ 
demonium.  Then  we  took  stock.  Three  dead  lions 
gathered  together  in  a  pile;  pretty  authentic  reports 
that  two  others  escaped — and  not  a  picture. 

At  the  next  spearing,  however,  I  did  get  two  pic¬ 
tures.  We  were  riding  along  early  in  the  morning 
through  a  rough  bush  country.  All  at  once  I  heard  a 
lion  grunt.  The  gun  boy  held  up  his  hand  as  a  signal 
to  stop.  The  camera  was  rushed  forward  to  the  bank 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


72 

of  a  little  ravine,  but  before  it  was  assembled  ready 
for  the  operation  a  lioness  came  up  within  ten  feet 
of  the  camera,  turned  to  the  left,  and  then  ran  back 
by  the  same  route.  The  boys  waved  to  me  to  come 
down  twenty-five  yards.  There,  from  a  little  knoll, 
we  got  the  first  movie  record  of  lion  spearing.  A  young, 
full-grown  lion  was  at  bay  in  tall  grass  at  the  bottom  of 
the  ravine.  The  camera  trained  on  the  place  caught 
the  first  spear  thrown.  The  first  one  was  followed 
by  a  shower  of  spears,  and  a  few  seconds  later  the  boys 
rushed  in  and  got  their  spears.  It  was  all  over  quicker 
than  it  takes  to  tell  it.  In  the  film  not  only  do  the 
falling  spears  show  but  also  the  movement  of  the 
lion  in  the  grass,  but  the  cover  and  a  dark  day  made 
any  part  of  the  film  impossible  to  use  as  a  still  picture. 
Hardly  had  I  finished  turning  the  handle  on  this  scene 
when  I  was  called  off  twenty-five  yards  to  another 
lion  at  bay.  He  was  held  for  the  camera  and  a  similar 
record  of  this  one  was  made.  In  the  meantime,  a  lone 
spearman  making  desperate  effort  to  get  into  the 
show  stumbled  on  an  old  lioness.  They  fought  it 
out,  man  and  beast  together.  When  we  discovered 
him  he  was  on  his  back  protecting  himself  with  his 
shield,  a  single  bite  in  his  leg  and  the  lioness  dying 
beside  him.  He  had  killed  a  lioness  practically  alone, 
which  entitled  him  to  wear  a  lion’s  skin  headdress. 

On  this  trip  of  twenty  days  we  had  three  occasions 
in  which  the  spearmen  rounded  up  five  lions  in  a 
bunch  and  each  time  they  got  three  of  the  five.  Al¬ 
together,  we  got  ten  lions  and  five  leopards.  One 
boy  was  mauled  by  a  leopard,  another  was  bitten 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  73 

on  the  leg  by  the  lion.  These  were  the  only  injuries 
to  the  men.  Not  a  shot  was  fired  during  the  twenty 
days.  Our  last  encounter  involved  five  old  lions, 
three  of  which  were  speared,  and  three  cubs  captured 
alive — but  no  pictures.  It  happened  like  this: 

Three  lions  going  up  a  slope,  signal  given,  pande¬ 
monium  turned  loose.  Movements  of  men  looked 
as  if  the  lions  had  gone  over  the  hill  beyond  to  a  dry 
stream  bed.  With  the  heavy  camera  I  ran  down  the 
foot  of  the  hill  when  I  was  called  back  and  had  to 
run  back  to  the  top  of  the  hill  where  the  lion  was  at 
bay.  He  might  have  been  held  indefinitely  there 
in  the  open  sunlight — a  wonderful  chance  for  a  pic¬ 
ture.  But  in  spite  of  long  teaching,  of  threats,  prom¬ 
ises,  and  urging,  the  boys’  excitement  overcame  them. 
The  spears  began  to  fly  before  the  camera  was  ready* 
As  I  was  adjusting  the  camera  the  lion  was  speared  in 
full  view  in  the  open  sunlight.  A  camera  man  never 
had  such  a  chance  before,  but  it  wTas  lost  because  the 
camera  was  slow.  After  the  planning,  the  care,  the 
work — the  luck  to  have  it  go  like  this  was  too  much, 
and  my  instinct  was  to  grab  my  gun  and  shoot  the 
man  who  threw  the  first  spear.  I  think  it  was  the 
most  heartbreaking  failure  I  ever  had.  I  intended 
never  to  have  another,  and  from  that  minute  I  began 
working  on  a  camera  that  takes  no  time  to  adjust.  I 
got  it  finally,  but  that  one  moment  of  poignant  disap¬ 
pointment  cost  me  many  months  of  toil. 

Here  is  the  way  I  see  this  lion  spearing.  A  naked 
savage  gets  iron  ore,  then  he  gets  fire  from  two  sticks, 
and  then  charcoal.  Then  he  makes  a  retort  of  clay 


74  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

in  which  he  smelts  the  iron  ore.  With  a  hunk  of 
granite  for  an  anvil  and  another  for  a  hammer  he 
rough  forges  the  spear.  With  soft  iron  hammers 
forged  in  a  similar  way  he  finishes  the  spear  which  is 
finally  sharpened  on  native  stones.  With  this  equip¬ 
ment  he  starts  out  to  kill  the  lion  that  has  been  prey¬ 
ing  on  his  flocks  or  herds.  He  takes  a  great  pride 
in  the  achievement,  for  he  will  make  from  the  mane  a 
headdress  which  his  exploit  entitles  him  to  wear.  Of 
course  this  does  not  happen  just  this  way  now,  but 
the  Nandi’s  spearmen  speared  lions  with  the  arms 
they  made  before  the  white  men  came.  It  is  a  fair 
contest  between  man  and  beast.  And  the  courage 
and  skill  of  these  men  are  wonderful. 

Paul  Rainey  had  a  ranch  on  the  west  shore  of  Lake 
Naivasha.  One  morning  his  boys  reported  to  him, 
that  a  lion  had  invaded  the  kraal  the  night  before. 
He  set  out  on  horseback  with  a  few  of  his  dogs  and 
two  Masai  herd  boys  with  their  spears.  The  dogs 
soon  took  up  the  spoor  of  the  lion  and  brought  him 
to  bay  under  an  acacia  tree  on  the  grassy  plain.  The 
sun  had  just  risen  above  the  hills  on  the  other  side 
of  the  lake.  The  long  shadows  of  the  table-top 
acacias  lay  across  the  plain,  the  lion  underneath  in 
full  sunlight.  Rainey  jumped  off  his  horse,  threw  the 
reins  over  a  bush,  and  grabbed  his  rifle  from  its  boot. 
He  then  saw  the  two  Masai  boys  run  on  toward  the 
lion.  As  they  approached  the  lion,  one  threw  his 
spear  and  missed.  They  were  between  him  and  the 
lion,  and  he  could  not  shoot.  The  boys  stood  stock 
still  till  the  lion  was  in  mid-air  in  his  final  spring 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  75 

when  the  one  with  the  spear  stepped  to  one  side  and 
thrust  his  spear  into  the  lion’s  neck  killing  him  in¬ 
stantly.  He  fell  at  their  feet.  As  the  boy  with¬ 
drew  the  spear  and  carefully  wiped  the  blood  off  on 
the  corner  of  his  breechcloth  he  remarked  to  Rainey: 

“You  see,  Master,  it  is  work  for  a  child.” 

That  is  how  the  Masai  figured  it.  But  I  never 
have  felt  so.  The  first  wild  lion  I  ever  saw  scared  me 
almost  to  death,  and  a  good  many  of  them  have 
scared  me  since.  The  first  lions  that  I  saw  were  in 
Somaliland. 

An  oryx  hunt  had  just  come  to  a  close.  We  were 
about  to  mount  our  ponies  when  one  of  the  black  boys 
pointed.  There  were  three  lions  walking  quietly 
across  a  patch  of  hard,  dry  sand.  They  were  perhaps 
a  hundred  yards  away.  They  looked  as  big  as  oxen 
to  me.  I  had  never  before  seen  a  lion  outside  of  a 
cage.  We  turned  our  ponies  over  to  the  Somali  gun 
boys  who  galloped  after  them  to  round  them  up. 
My  next  view  of  the  lions  was  when  the  beaters  had 
gone  in  to  drive  them  out  of  a  bit  of  jungle.  A  roar 
came  from  immediately  in  front  of  me  and  I  saw  a 
lioness  in  mid-air  as  high  as  my  head,  springing,  thank 
heaven,  diagonally  away  from  me.  But  she  saw 
me  as  she  sprang  and  landed  facing  me.  As  I 
fired,  a  lion  jumped  over  her  back,  which  so  discon¬ 
certed  me  that  my  shot  only  wounded  her.  This 
lion  disconcerted  her,  too,  for  she  followed  him.  Two 
more  shots  at  her  and  she  disappeared  in  another 
clump  of  cover  with  the  lions.  In  our  efforts  to  drive 
them  out  of  this  cover  we  finally  set  it  on  fire.  The 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


76 

two  lions  rushed  out  and  escaped  us.  The  lioness, 
more  seriously  wounded  than  I  thought,  never  came. 
I  had  failed  to  get  a  lion,  but  I  felt  satisfied  none  the 
less,  because  the  lions  had  likewise  failed  to  get  me. 
That  one  moment  in  that  day,  when  I  saw  the  lioness 
in  the  air.  I’ll  never  forget,  for  I  realized  that  death 
was  but  an  instant  away. 

From  that  time  until  now  I  have  seen  a  great  many 
lions,  shot  some,  and  handled  nearly  fifty  specimens, 
so  that  I  have  made  a  fairly  extended  study  of  the 
measurements  and  anatomy  of  the  king  of  beasts.  I 
have  tried  also  to  study  his  living  characteristics  and 
habits,  but  that  is  much  more  difficult.  After  all, 
perhaps  the  most  impressive  thing  about  a  lion  is  his 
foreleg.  The  more  you  know  of  elephants  the  more 
you  regard  the  elephant’s  trunk.  The  more  you 
know  of  lions,  the  more  you  respect  the  lion’s  foreleg 
and  the  great  padded  and  clawed  weapon  at  the  end 
of  it.  It  is  perhaps  the  best  token  of  the  animal’s 
strength.  It  is  probably  two  or  three  times  as  power¬ 
ful  in  proportion  to  weight  as  the  arm  of  a  man.  He 
can  kill  a  man  with  one  blow  of  his  paw.  His  other 
weapon,  his  jaw,  is  strong  enough  to  break  a  zebra’s 
neck  at  one  bite.  These  are  a  rather  rough  measure 
of  an  animal’s  strength,  but  they  give  some  idea 
of  it. 

There  is  a  record  which  says  that  a  lion  has  dragged 
an  African  buffalo  fifty  yards.  A  buffalo  weighs 
at  least  three  times  as  much  as  a  lion.  I  have  never 
had  evidence  of  this  much  “pulling  power”  but  I  have 
known  of  many  instances  of  lions  dragging  zebras 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  77 

that  far,  and  the  zebras  weigh  nearly  twice  as  much 
as  the  lions  do. 

Another  test  of  a  lion's  strength  is  his  ability  to 
stand  punishment.  I  have  seen  a  lion  charge  with 
seven  lead  bullets  from  an  old  .577  Express  rifle 
through  his  shoulder,  and  only  finally  succumb  to  the 
eighth  bullet  in  his  head. 

L.  J.  Tarlton,  one  of  the  best  shots  that  has  ever 
hunted  game  in  Africa,  told  me  once,  when  we  were 
both  recuperating  from  sickness,  that  he  was  going 
to  quit  shooting  lions.  What  had  brought  him  to  this 
conclusion  was  an  experience  which  he  had  just  had 
with  a  charging  lioness.  He  had  hit  her  three  times 
in  the  chest.  She  finally  died  touching  his  feet. 
When  he  examined  her,  all  three  bullets  were  within 
a  three-inch  radius  and  every  one  should  have  been 
fatal.  Yet  she  had  almost  reached  him  despite  his 
fast  and  accurate  shooting. 

These  instances  are  exceptions,  but  often  in  African 
hunting  the  exceptions  are  about  as  common  as  the 
rule  and  one  exception  may  be  enough  to  end  the 
story. 

My  nearest  approach  to  being  mauled  by  a  lion 
came  from  this  same  capacity  of  a  lion  to  carry  lead, 
and  from  my  own  carelessness.  I  had  seen  a  lion 
standing  some  little  distance  away  from  me  clearly 
in  view,  and  had  shot  him.  The  bullet  knocked  him 
down  and,  as  I  thought,  hurt  him  badly.  After  a 
while  he  got  up  and  came  my  way.  When  about 
forty  yards  away  he  gave  me  another  clear  shot. 
So  without  reloading  the  first  barrel  of  my  double- 


78  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

barrelled  rifle  I  fired  the  second.  I  hit  him  again, 
but  not  with  the  desired  result.  He  charged. 
There  I  was  with  an  empty  gun  to  meet  the 
charge  of  a  wounded  lion,  and  with  no  one  else, 
not  even  a  gun  boy,  near.  All  the  rules  of  lion  hunt¬ 
ing  say  that  you  must  meet  a  charge  without  moving. 
But  all  the  promptings  of  instinct  were  to  move,  and 
I  moved.  I  slipped  to  one  side  behind  a  clump  of 
high  grass  as  fast  as  I  could,  endeavouring  meanwhile 
to  reload.  A  few  seconds  after  I  had  left  the  spot 
where  I  should  have  stood  the  lion's  spring  landed 
him  directly  on  it.  He  had  had  to  come  through  a 
little  depression,  and  this  and  the  long  grass  had  ob¬ 
scured  his  sight  so  he  had  not  seen  me  move.  Not 
landing  on  me  as  he  expected  so  disconcerted  him 
that,  even  though  he  saw  me,  he  dived  into  the  thick 
bushes  right  ahead  of  him  instead  of  coming  at  me. 
There  he  stopped,  threatening  for  a  time  to  repeat 
his  charge.  Finally,  changing  his  mind,  he  headed 
deeper  into  the  brush  and,  as  it  was  too  thick  to 
follow  him,  I  let  him  go.  In  the  mix-up  my  syce  had 
become  so  completely  frightened  that  he  had  jumped 
into  the  river,  so  he  was  quite  unable  to  tell  whether 
the  lion  had  got  my  pony  or  the  pony  had  run  away. 
After  a  certain  amount  of  fruitless  searching  I  walked 
the  ten  miles  back  to  camp. 

The  usual  movement  of  a  lion  is  a  walk  or  a  kind 
of  fox  trot.  At  speed  he  will  still  continue  to  trot 
except  at  maximum  effort,  when  he  gallops. 

Lions  do  not  usually  have  any  habitation;  but  oc¬ 
casionally  they  live  in  caves.  When  I  say  live,  I  do 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  79 

not  mean  that  they  inhabit  them  continuously.  They 
roam  about,  following  the  movements  of  the  game. 
If  they  happen  to  be  working  in  a  country  where  there 
is  a  cave,  they  will  use  it  while  in  the  neighbourhood. 
But  a  given  band  of  lions  usually  stays  in  one  place 
only  a  short  time.  The  phrase  “band  of  lions”  is 
perhaps  not  very  accurate.  Lions  go  in  all  kinds  of 
combinations  of  numbers.  There  is  a  cave  on  the 
MacMillan  ranch  near  Nairobi  from  which  sixteen 
lions  have  been  seen  to  come.  Personally  I  have 
never  seen  more  than  eight  lions  together,  but  I  have 
seen  almost  all  combinations  of  numbers,  ages,  and 
sexes  below  that  number.  Lions  are  more  often  in 
twos,  threes,  or  fours  than  in  other  combinations. 

But  although  I  know  that  lions  are  accustomed 
to  roam  after  game,  one  of  the  most  interesting  lion 
encounters  I  ever  had  came  from  acting  on  exactly 
the  opposite  theory. 

There  is  a  place  where  a  little  stream  flows  into  the 
Theba  River,  where,  in  1906,  I  was  looking  for  buffalo 
and  heard  the  snarling  of  two  lions.  We  stopped  the 
buffalo  hunt  momentarily  to  locate  the  lions.  We 
started  at  the  river  bank  to  drive  up  the  small  stream 
toward  the  higher  land  and  the  open.  The  beaters 
began  their  work  with  their  usual  noises,  which  I 
checked  as  soon  as  possible  for  fear  that  the  lions 
would  go  out  too  far  ahead  of  us  to  get  a  shot.  I 
instructed  the  beaters  to  go  up  the  little  stream  with 
the  cover  along  its  banks  throwing  stones  in  ahead  of 
them.  But  my  precautions  were  too  late.  They  had 
hardly  started  to  work  when  I  noticed  on  the  hills 


8o  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

a  lion  and  a  lioness — one  going  to  the  left  and  the 
other  to  the  right.  They  were  in  the  open.  The 
lion  disappeared  over  the  crest  of  the  first  hill.  I 
had  a  theory  that  he  would  lie  down  on  the  top  of 
that  crest  and  watch  us.  I  accordingly  left  part  of 
the  men  in  sight  while  I,  with  a  few  others,  approached 
the  hill  under  cover.  I  finally  succeeded  in  getting 
to  a  point  behind  a  pile  of  rocks.  Motioning  the  men 
to  stay  quiet  and  keep  back,  I  carefully  poked  my 
head  up  and  saw  the  old  fellow  as  he  lay  looking 
toward  me  about  seventy-five  yards  away.  I  drew 
back,  and  then  to  my  disgust  one  of  my  companions 
rose  up  in  full  view  of  the  lion,  who  made  off  unscathed 
by  the  hurried  shots  I  fired  at  him.  This  lion  stayed 
constantly  in  my  mind. 

Three  years  later  I  was  camped  on  the  Tana  River 
with  Mrs.  Akeley,  John  McCutcheon,  and  Fred 
Stephenson.  When  we  decided  to  march  from  the 
Tana  to  the  Theba  I  told  the  crowd  that  I  was  going 
by  the  spot  where  I  had  lost  the  big  lion  three  years 
before.  I  had  a  “hunch”  that  he  would  still  be  there 

or  perhaps  be  revisiting  the  spot  as  I  was.  Any¬ 
way,  the  feeling  was  strong  enough  to  make  me  go. 
Stephenson  went  off  on  an  independent  hunt.  The 
others  with  the  safari  came  with  me.  We  loitered 
along  photographing  rhinoceroses  until  we  came  in 
sight  of  my  spot— the  place  where  the  little  stream 
emptied  into  the  Theba.  I  noticed  that  Stephenson 
was  coming  toward  us  and  about  to  cross  the  little 
stream.  I  remarked,  “Fred  is  going  to  drive  our 
lions  out  and  never  know  it.”  I  then  felt  a  little 


MY  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  LIONS  81 

foolish  but  nevertheless  watched  him  go  through 
my  pet  lion  bed.  Only  a  few  minutes  later  Mc- 
Cutcheon  pointed  toward  the  upper  end  of  the  stream 
and  said: 

“What  is  that?” 

,cMy  pair  of  lions,”  I  answered. 

They  were  going  up  the  hill  exactly  as  they  had 
three  years  before  except  this  time  they  did  not  sepa¬ 
rate.  We  watched  them  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  We 
started  out  to  head  them  off.  As  we  reached  the 
top  of  the  hill  to  one  side  of  where  they  had  gone, 
we  heard  a  lion  grunt  behind  us.  There,  about  a 
hundred  and  twenty-five  yards  away,  were  the  lion 
and  lioness  apparently  in  a  very  nasty  humour.  We 
all  crouched  down,  and  as  we  did  so  the  lions  rose 
up  to  see  us.  I  said  to  Mrs.  Akeley: 

“Shoot  whenever  you  are  ready.” 

I  was  pretty  nervous,  for  a  couple  of  mad  lions  in 
the  grass  make  a  very  bad  outlook. 

She  fired  and  missed  clean.  The  lioness  began 
lashing  her  flanks.  Mrs.  Akeley  fired  again.  The 
lion  fell  dead  with  a  bullet  through  his  brain. 

McCutcheon  and  I  urged  each  other  to  shoot  the 
lioness,  who,  in  the  meantime,  bolted  and  got  away, 
I  have  handled  nearly  fifty  lions,  but  this  one  that 
Mrs.  Akeley  killed  was  the  largest  of  all  and  he  had 
a  good  yellow  mane.  I  can’t  prove  that  it  was  the 
same  pair  I  had  seen  three  years  before.  What  we 
know  of  lions  is  against  it,  but  I  still  like  to  think  it 
was.  This  was  Mrs.  Akeley’s  first  lion — a  splendid 
trophy,  cleanly  killed. 


CHAPTER  IV 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO 

T  ■  ^HE  buffalo  is  different  from  any  other  kind 
I  of  animal  in  Africa.  A  lion  prefers  not  to  fight 
JL.  a  man.  He  almost  never  attacks  unprovoked, 
and  even  when  he  does  attack  he  is  not  vindictive. 
The  elephant,  like  the  lion,  prefers  to  be  left  alone. 
But  he  is  quicker  to  attack  than  the  lion  and  he  isn’t 
satisfied  merely  to  knock  out  his  man  enemy.  Com¬ 
plete  destruction  is  his  aim.  The  buffalo  is  even 
quicker  than  the  elephant  to  take  offence  at  man  and 
he  is  as  keen-sighted,  clever,  and  vindictive  as  the 
elephant.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  domesticated  bull 
is  more  likely  to  attack  man  without  provocation 
than  any  wild  animal  I  know,  and  those  who  wan¬ 
dered  on  foot  around  the  bulls  on  our  Western  prairies 
in  the  old  cattle  days  probably  experienced  the  same 
kind  of  charges  one  gets  from  African  buffaloes. 

Nevertheless,  despite  all  these  qualities,  which  are 
almost  universally  attributed  to  the  African  buffalo, 
I  am  confident  that  the  buffalo,  like  the  elephant  and 
other  wild  animals,  has  no  instinctive  enmity  to  man. 
That  enmity,  I  am  sure,  is  acquired  by  experience. 
I  had  an  experience  on  the  Aberdare  Plateau  with  a 
band  of  elephants  that  had  seen  little  or  nothing  of 
man,  and  until  they  learned  about  men  from  me  they 

82 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO  83 

paid  no  more  attention  to  me  than  if  I  had  been  an 
antelope.  But  after  I  had  shot  one  or  two  as  speci¬ 
mens,  they  acquired  the  traditional  elephant  atti¬ 
tude.  I  had  a  curiously  similar  experience  with  buf¬ 
faloes. 

It  happened  in  this  way.  Mrs.  Akeley,  Cun- 
inghame,  the  famous  hunter,  and  I  had  been  trying 
for  some  time,  but  with  little  luck,  to  get  buffalo 
specimens  for  a  group  for  the  Field  Museum  at 
Chicago. 

We  had  reason  to  believe  that  there  was  a  herd  of 
buffaloes  living  in  the  triangle  made  by  the  junction 
of  the  Theba  and  Tana  rivers.  As  the  buffaloes 
would  have  to  water  from  one  stream  or  the  other, 
we  felt  pretty  sure  of  locating  them  by  following  down 
the  Theba  to  the  junction  and  then  up  the  Tana. 

From  the  swamp  down  the  Theba  to  its  junction 
with  the  Tana  occupied  three  days  in  which  we  saw 
no  fresh  signs  of  buffalo.  On  the  second  march  up 
the  Tana,  as  I  was  travelling  ahead  of  the  safari  at 
about  midday,  looking  out  through  an  opening  in 
a  strip  of  thorn  bush  that  bordered  the  river,  I  saw 
in  the  distance  a  great  black  mass  on  the  open  plain 
which,  on  further  investigation  with  the  field  glasses, 
I  was  reasonably  certain  was  a  herd  of  buffaloes. 
Sending  a  note  back  to  Cuninghame,  who  was  in 
charge  of  the  safari ,  suggesting  that  he  make  camp 
at  a  hill  on  the  banks  of  the  Tana  about  two  miles 
ahead  of  my  position  and  await  me  there,  I  started 
off  over  the  plain  with  my  two  gun  boys.  Coming  up 
out  of  a  dry  stream-bed  that  I  had  used  to  conceal 


84  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

my  approach,  I  came  on  to  a  large  herd  of  eland,  and 
my  first  fear  was  that  I  had  mistaken  eland  for  buf¬ 
faloes. 

Going  farther  on,  however,  we  saw  a  herd  of  about 
five  hundred  buffaloes  lying  up  in  a  few  scattered 
thorn  trees  four  or  five  hundred  yards  away.  At 
first  it  seemed  an  almost  impossible  situation.  There 
was  practically  no  cover  and  no  means  of  escape  in 
case  the  herd  detected  us  and  saw  fit  to  charge,  and 
at  that  time  my  respect  for  the  buffaloes  led  me  to 
be  extremely  cautious.  We  worked  around  the  herd 
trying  to  find  some  place  where  a  safe  approach  might 
be  made.  Finally,  seeing  a  little  band  of  a  dozen 
buffaloes  off  at  one  side  on  the  bank  of  a  ravine  which 
offered  splendid  protection,  we  stalked  them  but, 
unfortunately,  not  one  in  the  band  was  desirable  as  a 
specimen.  Since  this  was  so,  I  tried  them  out,  giving 
them  my  wind,  then  going  up  where  they  could  see  me 
better.  I  found  that  they  were  quite  indifferent 
either  to  the  scent  or  the  sight  of  man.  They  finally 
moved  off  quietly  without  alarm.  I  then  knew  that 
this  herd,  like  the  Aberdare  elephants,  had  had  little 
or  no  experience  with  men,  and  that  there  was  per¬ 
haps  less  to  fear  from  them  than  from  the  traditional 
buffalo  of  the  sportsman.  So  going  back  to  the  main 
herd,  I  crept  up  boldly  to  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
them.  They  saw  me,  faced  about,  closely  inspecting 
me,  but  with  no  sign  of  alarm.  It  was  approaching 
dusk,  and  in  this  great  black  mass  it  was  difficult  to 
pick  out  a  good  pair  of  horns  except  with  the  aid  of 
glasses.  I  carefully  located  a  fine  bull  and  then  shot. 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO  85 

as  I  supposed,  at  the  one  I  had  located.  As  I  fired, 
the  animals  bolted,  first  away,  then  back  toward  me. 
They  wheeled,  ran  halfway  between  the  dead  animal 
and  me,  and  passing  on  about  a  hundred  yards  to  the 
right  wheeled  about  again  and  stood  watching  me, 
the  bulls  in  the  front,  lined  up  like  soldiers,  the  calves 
and  cows  in  the  background.  On  coming  up  to  the 
dead  animal,  I  found,  much  to  my  regret,  that  I  had 
shot  a  cow  and  not  the  bull  I  had  picked  out  through 
the  glasses. 

I  returned  to  camp  feeling  that  now  at  last,  from 
this  herd  living  apparently  in  the  open,  we  should 
have  relatively  little  difficulty  in  completing  our 
series  of  specimens.  On  the  following  morning,  much 
to  our  disappointment,  our  first  glimpse  of  the  herd 
was  just  as  it  disappeared  in  the  thorn  bush  along 
the  bank  of  the  river.  We  put  in  nearly  a  week  of 
hard  work  to  complete  the  series. 

During  those  seven  days  of  continual  hunting,  that 
herd  which  had  been  indifferent  and  unsuspecting  at 
the  beginning,  like  the  elephants,  became  cautious, 
vigilant,  and  aggressive.  For  instance,  on  one  oc¬ 
casion  near  the  close  of  the  week,  after  having  spent 
the  day  trying  to  locate  the  herd,  I  suddenly  came 
face  to  face  with  them  just  at  the  edge  of  the  bush 
at  night  on  my  way  back  to  camp.  They  were  tear¬ 
ing  along  at  a  good  pace,  apparently  having  been 
alarmed.  I  stepped  to  one  side  and  crouched  in 
the  low  grass  while  they  passed  me  in  a  cloud  of  dust 
at  twenty-five  or  thirty  yards.  Even  had  I  been 
able  to  pick  out  desirable  specimens  at  this  time  I 


86  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

should  have  been  afraid  to  shoot  for  fear  of  getting 
into  difficulties  when  they  had  located  my  position. 
I  turned  and  followed  them  rapidly  as  they  sped  away 
over  the  hard  ground  until  the  noise  of  their  stampede 
suddenly  stopped.  I  then  decided  that  it  was  best 
to  get  to  some  point  of  vantage  and  await  further 
developments.  I  climbed  an  acacia  tree  that  enabled 
me  to  look  over  the  top  of  the  bush.  Fifty  yards 
ahead  I  could  see  about  fifty  buffaloes  lined  up  in  a 
little  open  patch  looking  back  on  their  trail.  As  I 
was  perched  in  the  tree  endeavouring  to  pick  out  a 
desirable  animal,  I  suddenly  discovered  a  lone  old 
bull  buffalo  coming  from  the  bush  almost  directly 
underneath  me,  sniffing  and  snuffing  this  way  and 
that.  Very  slowly,  very  cautiously  he  passed  around 
the  tree,  then  back  to  the  waiting  herd,  when  they 
all  resumed  their  stampede  and  made  good  their  es¬ 
cape  for  the  day. 

One  morning  I  came  in  sight  of  the  herd  just  as 
it  was  entering  the  thorn  bush  and  followed  hurriedly 
on  the  trail,  until  just  at  the  edge  of  the  jungle  I 
happened  to  catch  sight  of  the  two  black  hoofs  of  an 
old  cow  behind  the  low-hanging  foliage.  I  stopped, 
expecting  a  charge.  After  a  few  moments  I  backed 
slowly  away  until  I  reached  a  tree  where  I  halted  to 
await  developments.  Stooping  down  I  could  see  the 
buffalo’s  nose  and  black,  beady  eyes  as  she  stood  mo¬ 
tionless.  The  rest  of  the  herd  had  gone  on  out  of 
hearing  and  I  think  she  was  quite  alone  in  her  pro¬ 
posed  attack.  After  a  few  moments,  apparently 
realizing  that  her  plan  had  failed,  she  turned  about 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO  87 

and  followed  the  herd,  moving  very  quietly  at  first, 
then  breaking  into  a  gallop. 

On  the  following  day  toward  evening  we  came  up 
again  with  the  herd  in  the  same  region.  As  we  first 
saw  them  they  were  too  far  away  for  us  to  choose 
and  shoot  with  certainty.  We  managed  to  crawl  to 
a  fair-sized  tree  midway  between  us  and  the  herd, 
and  from  the  deep  branches  picked  out  the  young 
herd  bull  of  the  group.  When  we  had  shot  and  he 
had  disappeared  into  the  bush,  a  calf  accompanied 
by  its  mother  gave  us  a  fleeting  glimpse  of  itself,  with 
the  result  that  we  added  the  calf  to  our  series. 

The  herd  disappeared  into  the  bush  and  after  a  few 
minutes  we  descended  from  our  perch  and  inspected 
the  calf,  then  started  off  in  the  direction  the  wounded 
bull  had  taken,  and  found  him  lying  dead  just  a  few 
yards  away. 

This  completed  the  series,  much  to  our  great  joy, 
for  by  this  time  we  were  thoroughly  tired  of  buffalo¬ 
hunting.  It  had  been  a  long,  hard  hunt,  and  our  safari 
as  well  as  ourselves  were  considerably  the  worse  for 
wear.  To  shoot  a  half-dozen  buffaloes  is  a  very  sim¬ 
ple  matter  and  ought  to  be  accomplished  almost  any 
day  in  British  East  Africa  or  Uganda,  but  to  select 
a  series  of  a  half  dozen  that  will  have  the  greatest 
possible  scientific  value  by  illustrating  the  develop¬ 
ment  from  babyhood  to  old  age  is  quite  a  different 
matter. 

These  buffaloes  of  the  Tana  country  that  we  found 
on  the  plains  and  in  the  bush  apparently  rarely  or 
never  go  into  the  swamps,  a  fact  not  only  confirmed 


88  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

by  observation  but  also  indicated  by  the  condition 
of  the  hoofs.  These  are  horny,  round,  and  smooth 
as  a  result  of  travelling  on  the  hard  and  more  or  less 
stony  ground  of  the  region.  But  the  tinga-tinga 
buffaloes  have  lived  in  the  swamp  for  years  and  spend 
practically  no  time  on  hard  ground;  hence  the  hoofs 
are  long,  sharp,  and  unworn  as  a  result  of  walking 
always  in  the  soft  mud  and  water.  All  this  despite 
the  fact  that  these  two  herds  may  actually  come  in 
contact  at  the  edge  of  the  swamp.  Other  herds  live 
in  forest  country  but  come  out  into  the  grasslands 
to  feed  at  night,  always  going  back  into  the  forest 
at  daybreak. 

In  Uganda,  where  buffaloes  are  recognized  as  a 
menace  to  life  and  are  of  no  particular  value  except 
for  food,  they  are  officially  treated  as  vermin  and  one 
may  shoot  as  many  as  he  will.  Here  the  herds  had 
increased  to  an  enormous  extent  and,  because  of  the 
dense  jungles  and  general  inaccessibility  of  the  coun¬ 
try,  it  was  rather  difficult  to  hunt  them.  While 
elephant-hunting  in  Uganda  we  found  the  buffaloes 
a  decided  nuisance,  frequently  coming  on  to  them 
unexpectedly  while  hot  on  an  elephant  trail,  some¬ 
times  having  difficulty  in  getting  rid  of  them,  not 
wishing  to  shoot  or  stampede  them  because  of  the 
danger  of  frightening  away  the  elephants,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  constant  menace  of  running  into  a 
truculent  old  bull  at  very  close  quarters  in  dense 
jungle.  The  buffaloes  actually  mingle  with  the  ele¬ 
phants,  each  quite  indifferent  to  the  other  excepting 
that  on  one  occasion  we  found  elephant  calves  charg- 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO  89 

ing  into  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  evidently  only  in  play. 
They  chased  about  squealing  and  stampeding  the 
buffaloes,  who  kept  at  a  safe  distance  but  did  not 
actually  take  alarm.  Occasionally  an  old  cow  whose 
calf  was  being  hard-pressed  by  the  young  elephants 
would  turn,  apparently  with  the  intention  of  having 
it  out,  but  would  always  bolt  before  the  elephant 
could  actually  reach  her.  Despite  the  fact  that  the 
record  head,  fifty-four  inches  in  spread,  was  shot  by 
Mr.  Knowles  in  Uganda,  from  our  general  observa¬ 
tion  the  heads  in  Uganda  run  smaller  than  those  of 
British  East  Africa  while  the  animals  are  perhaps 
heavier. 

Although  in  our  buffalo-hunting  we  have  never 
had  any  actually  serious  encounters,  I  fully  appreciate 
that  the  buffalo  deserves  his  reputation  as  one  of 
the  most  dangerous  of  big-game  animals.  His  eye¬ 
sight  is  good,  he  has  keen  scent,  and  is  vigilant  and 
vindictive.  While  the  lion  is  usually  satisfied  with 
giving  his  victim  a  knock-out  blow  or  bite,  the  buffalo, 
when  once  on  the  trail  of  man,  will  not  only  persist 
in  his  efforts  to  find  him  but,  when  he  has  once  come 
up  with  him,  will  not  leave  while  there  is  a  vestige 
of  life  remaining  in  the  victim.  In  some  cases  he 
will  not  leave  while  there  is  a  fragment  of  the  man 
remaining  large  enough  to  form  a  target  for  a  buffalo’s 
stamping  hoofs. 

A  hunter  I  met  once  told  me  of  an  experience  he 
had  with  a  buffalo  which  shows  in  rather  a  terrible 
way  these  characteristics  of  the  animal.  He  and  a 
companion  wounded  a  buffalo  and  followed  it  into 


90  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

the  long  grass.  It  was  lurking  where  'they  did  not 
expect  it  and  with  a  sudden  charge  it  was  upon  them 
before  they  had  a  chance  to  shoot.  The  buffalo 
knocked  down  the  man  who  told  me  the  story  and 
then  rushed  after  his  companion.  The  first  victim 
managed  to  climb  a  tree  although  without  his  gun. 
By  that  time  the  other  man  was  dead.  But  the  buf¬ 
falo  was  not  satisfied.  For  two  hours  he  stamped 
and  tossed  the  remains  while  the  wounded  man  in 
the  tree  sat  helplessly  watching.  When  the  buffalo 
left,  my  informant  told  me,  the  only  evidence  of  his 
friend  was  the  trampled  place  on  the  ground  where 
the  tragedy  had  taken  place.  There  is  nothing  in 
Africa  more  vindictive  than  this. 

There  was  another  case  of  an  old  elephant  hunter 
in  Uganda  who  shot  a  buffalo  for  meat.  The  bullet 
did  not  kill  the  animal  and  it  retreated  into  the  thick 
bush  where  there  were  even  some  good-sized  trees. 
The  old  hunter  followed  along  a  path.  Suddenly  the 
buffalo  caught  him  and  tossed  him.  As  he  went  into 
the  air  he  grasped  some  branches  overhanging  the 
trail.  There  he  hung  unable  to  get  up  and  afraid  to 
drop  down  while  the  wild  bull  beneath  him  charged 
back  and  forth  with  his  long  horns  ripping  at  the 
hunter  s  legs.  Happily  the  gun  boy  came  up  in  time 
to  save  his  master  by  killing  the  beast.  This  hunter 
was  an  extraordinary  character.  He  was  very  suc¬ 
cessful  and  yet  he  was  almost  stone  deaf.  How  he 
dared  hunt  elephants  or  any  other  big  game  without 
the  aid  of  his  hearing  I  have  never  been  able  to  con¬ 
ceive,  yet  he  did  it  and  did  it  well. 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO  91 

One  morning  Cuninghame,  having  gone  out  with’ 
some  boys  to  shoot  meat  for  camp,  came  upon  three 
old  buffaloes.  He  sent  a  runner  back  to  camp  with 
the  news,  and  Mrs.  Akeley  and  I  started  out  to  join 
him.  Halfway  from  camp  we  were  obliged  to  make 
a  wide  detour  to  avoid  an  old  rhino  and  calf,  but  soon 
caught  up  with  Cuninghame.  He  reported,  however, 
that  the  buffaloes  had  passed  on  into  some  dense 
bush.  We  started  to  follow  but  suddenly  came  upon 
two  rhinos.  We  quickly  turned  to  leeward  in  order 
not  to  disturb  them  by  giving  them  our  wind,  for  we 
were  not  anxious  to  bring  on  a  general  stampede  of 
the  game  in  the  neighbourhood.  This  turn  brought 
us  to  the  windward  of  the  old  cow  and  calf  that  we 
had  first  avoided,  with  the  result  that  she  came  charg¬ 
ing  up,  followed  by  the  calf  close  at  her  heels,  snorting 
like  a  locomotive.  Cuninghame  helped  Mrs.  Akeley 
up  a  convenient  tree.  He  stood  at  the  base  of  the 
tree  and  I  at  the  foot  of  another  where  we  waited  with 
our  guns  ready,  watching  the  old  cow  go  tearing  past 
within  twenty  feet  of  us. 

We  continued  on  the  buffalo  trail,  but  the  stampede 
of  the  rhino  had  resulted  in  alarming  the  buffaloes 
so  that  instead  of  finding  them  near  by,  we  were 
forced  to  follow  them  for  an  hour  or  more  before 
again  coming  in  sight  of  them;  and  again  twice  more 
they  were  stampeded  by  rhinos  that  happened  to 
get  in  our  path.  At  last  the  buffaloes  evidently  be¬ 
came  tired  of  being  chased  from  place  to  place,  and 
came  to  rest  on  a  sloping  hillside  which  we  could  ap¬ 
proach  only  by  crawling  on  our  hands  and  knees  in, 


92  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

the  grass  for  a  considerable  distance.  In  this  manoeu¬ 
vring  it  happened  that  Mrs.  Akeley  was  able  to  stalk 
the  best  bull,  and  a  few  minutes  later  he  was  finished 
off  and  we  were  busy  photographing,  measuring,  and 
preparing  the  skin. 

About  twenty-five  miles  to  the  northwest  from  the 
Tana,  across  the  plain  on  the  Theba  River,  is  a  marsh 
where  a  herd  of  nearly  a  hundred  buffaloes  was  known 
to  live,  but  the  Provincial  Commissioner  had  defi¬ 
nitely  said  that  we  were  not  to  shoot  these.  We 
decided  finally  to  ask  for  the  privilege,  which  was 
granted,  but  with  a  warning  in  the  form  of  an  ex¬ 
planation:  that  he  had  told  us  not  to  shoot  there 
because  of  the  danger  involved. 

We  found  a  reed  marsh  about  one  by  two  miles  in 
extent  with,  at  that  time,  a  foot  or  two  of  water  in 
the  buffalo  trails  that  crisscrossed  it  in  all  directions, 
On  arriving,  and  while  making  camp  at  one  end  of 
the  marsh  just  at  dusk,  we  saw  the  herd  come  out  on 
dry  land  a  half  mile  away — but  they  returned  to 
cover  before  we  could  approach  them.  In  fact,  dur¬ 
ing  nearly  two  weeks  that  we  spent  there  we  saw 
them  come  outside  the  swamp  only  twice,  each  time 
to  return  immediately. 

We  made  several  attempts  to  approach  them  in 
the  marsh,  but  found  that  while  it  was  quite  possible 
to  get  up  to  them  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  choose 
our  specimens.  Also  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  beat  a  retreat  in  case  of  a  charge  or  stampede;  so 
we  adopted  a  campaign  of  watchful  waiting.  From 
the  camp  at  daybreak  we  would  scan  the  marsh  for 


HUNTING  THE  AFRICAN  BUFFALO  93 

the  snowy  cow  herons  that  were  always  with  the 
buffaloes  during  the  daytime.  These  would  fly  about 
above  the  reeds  from  one  part  of  the  herd  to  another, 
and  at  times,  where  the  reeds  were  low,  they  could 
be  seen  riding  along  perched  on  the  backs  of  the  a nu 
mals.  Having  thus  located  the  herd  and  determined 
the  general  direction  of  its  movements,  we  would  go 
to  a  point  at  the  edge  of  the  marsh  where  it  seemed 
likely  that  the  animals  would  come  out,  or  at  least 
come  near  enough  to  be  visible  in  the  shorter  reeds. 
It  was  in  this  way  that  we  secured  the  specimen  that 
makes  the  young  bull  of  the  group — and  two  weeks 
spent  there  resulted  in  securing  no  other  specimen. 
On  this  one  occasion  the  buffaloes,  accompanied  by 
'the  white  herons,  had  come  to  within  about  a  hundred 
yards  of  our  position  on  the  shores  of  the  swamp. 
They  were  in  reeds  that  practically  concealed  them, 
but  the  young  buffalo  in  question,  in  the  act  of  throw¬ 
ing  up  his  head  to  dislodge  a  bird  that  had  irritated 
him,  disclosed  a  pair  of  horns  that  indicated  a  young 
bull  of  the  type  I  wanted.  A  heron  standing  on  his 
withers  gave  me  his  position,  and  aiming  about  two 
feet  below  the  bird,  I  succeeded  in  killing  the  bull 
with  a  heart  shot. 


CHAPTER  V 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS 

THERE  is  a  general  belief  firmly  fixed  in  the 
popular  mind  by  constant  repetition  that  the 
ostrich  is  a  very  stupid  bird.  A  man  might 
well  expect  easy  hunting  of  a  bird  that  tried  to  hide 
by  the  traditional  method  of  sticking  its  head  in  the 
sand.  But  I  found  that  the  ostrich,  like  other 
African  animals,  did  not  always  realize  its  obliga¬ 
tion  to  tradition  or  abide  by  the  rules  set  down 
for  its  behaviour.  I  went  a  long  way  into  the 
waterless  desert  of  Somaliland  after  ostriches.  We 
were  just  across  the  Haud  and  were  camped  in  a 
“tug”  or  dry  stream  bed  where  by  digging  we  could 
get  water  for  our  sixty  men  and  the  camels.  During 
two  days  of  hunting  in  the  dry  bush  of  this  desert  I 
had  seen  many  ostriches,  but  none  of  them  had  put 
its  head  into  the  ground  and  left  its  big  black-and- 
white  plumed  body  for  me  to  shoot  at.  On  the  con¬ 
trary,  in  this  my  first  experience  with  them  I  found 
them  exceedingly  wary.  They  kept  their  bodies 
hidden  behind  the  bush.  Only  their  heads  were  ex¬ 
posed,  each  head  only  about  large  enough  to  carry  a 
pair  of  very  keen  eyes  and  much  too  small  to  serve 
as  a  target  at  the  distance  that  they  maintained.  As 
a  result  of  being  continually  outwitted  by  them  for 


Qd 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS 


95 

two  days  I  began  to  think  ill  of  the  man  who  origi¬ 
nally  started  the  story  about  their  stupidity. 

With  the  difficulties  of  the  chase  firmly  in  mind  I 
set  out  early  on  the  third  day  to  see  if  I  could  get  a 
specimen.  Concluding  that  the  smaller  the  party 
the  better  the  opportunity,  I  took  only  a  mule  and 
my  pony  boy.  When  only  a  half  mile  from  camp  I 
met  an  old  hyena  who  was  loafing  along  after  a  night 
out.  He  looked  like  a  good  specimen,  but  after  I 
shot  him,  one  look  at  his  dead  carcass  was  enough 
to  satisfy  me  that  he  was  not  as  desirable  as  I  had 
thought,  for  his  skin  was  badly  diseased.  I  had  very 
good  reason  to  think  of  this  very  hard  later  in  the 
day.  A  little  farther  along  I  shot  a  good  wart  hog 
for  our  scientific  collection.  Leaving  the  specimen 
where  it  lay,  I  marked  the  spot  and  continued  in 
search  of  the  plume-bearers. 

Soon  after  this  I  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  termite 
hill  about  eight  feet  high  to  look  the  country  over 
with  field  glasses.  As  I  held  the  glasses  to  my  eyes 
while  adjusting  the  focus,  I  suddenly  realized  that 
the  letter  S  that  I  was  focussing  on  was  the  head  and 
neck  of  an  ostrich  and  that  there  was  a  second  letter 
S  beside  it.  The  birds  remained  perfectly  motionless 
watching  and  I  did  likewise,  locating  their  position 
meanwhile  by  the  termite  hills  which  were  nearly  in 
line  between  us.  Suddenly  the  heads  ducked  and 
disappeared  behind  the  bush.  I  dropped  from  my 
perch  and  ran  rapidly  to  where  they  had  been,  but 
found  only  their  trail  in  the  sand. 

When  I  had  given  up  tracking  them  and  was  about 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


96 

to  start  farther  afield  I  came  into  an  opening  in  the 
bush  that  was  about  thirty  yards  wide  and  two  hun¬ 
dred  yards  long.  Near  the  centre  of  the  opening  was 
a  dense  green  bush  a  dozen  feet  in  diameter.  A 
beautiful  cock  ostrich  broke  into  the  clearing  at  full 
speed  just  below  the  bush  and  as  I  raised  my  rifle  he 
disappeared  behind  the  bush.  I  held  ready  to  catch 
him  as  he  passed  out  from  behind  it  on  the  other  side, 
where  there  was  fifteen  or  twenty  yards  of  clear 
ground  before  he  would  reach  cover  again.  I  stood 
there  ready  with  my  gun  up  until  I  felt  foolish.  Then 
I  ran  quickly  to  the  bush  expecting  to  find  him  just 
on  the  other  side.  He  was  nowhere  in  sight,  but  his 
trail  told  the  story.  As  he  had  come  into  the  open  he 
had  seen  me  and  when  behind  the  bush  he  had  stopped 
short,  as  indicated  by  a  great  hole  and  swirl  of  sand 
where  he  had  caught  himself  by  one  foot,  had  turned 
at  right  angles  and  run  straight  away  the  length  of 
the  clearing,  keeping  the  bush  between  himself  and 
his  enemy.  I  have  not  known  many  animals  to  do  a 
more  clever  thing  than  this.  I  got  one  shot  at  him 
later — putting  my  sights  at  three  hundred  yards — 
but  the  bullet  struck  in  the  sand  between  his  legs. 

We  returned  to  camp  later  in  the  afternoon  and 
after  a  little  rest  and  refreshment  I  started  out  again 
with  only  the  pony  boy  and  carrying  the  necessary 
tools  to  get  the  head  of  the  wart  hog  that  I  had  shot 
in  the  morning.  We  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the 
place  where  I  had  shot  him,  but  there  was  nothing  to 
be  seen  of  the  pig.  The  place  was  strewn  with  vulture 
features,  but  surely  vultures  could  not  make  away 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS 


97 

with  the  head.  A  crash  in  the  bushes  at  one  side 
Jed  me  in  a  hurry  in  that  direction  and  a  little  later  I 
saw  my  pig's  head  in  the  mouth  of  a  hyena  travelling 
up  the  slope  of  a  ridge  out  of  range.  That  meant 
that  my  wart  hog  specimen  was  lost,  and,  having 
got  no  ostriches,  I  felt  it  was  a  pretty  poor  day. 

The  sun  was  setting,  and  with  little  to  console  us 
the  pony  boy  and  I  started  for  camp.  As  we  came 
near  to  the  place  where  I  had  shot  the  diseased  hyena 
in  the  morning,  it  occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  there 
might  be  another  hyena  about  the  carcass,  and  feeling 
a  bit  “sore”  at  the  tribe  for  stealing  my  wart  hog,  I 
thought  I  might  pay  off  the  score  by  getting  a  good 
specimen  of  a  hyena  for  the  collections.  The  pony 
boy  led  me  to  the  spot,  but  the  dead  hyena  was  no¬ 
where  in  sight.  There  was  the  blood  where  he  had 
/alien,  and  in  the  dusk  we  could  make  out  a  trail  in 
jhe  sand  where  he  had  been  dragged  away. 

Advancing  a  few  steps,  a  slight  sound  attracted  my 
attention,  and  glancing  to  one  side  I  got  a  glimpse  of 
a  shadowy  form  going  behind  a  bush.  I  then  did  a 
very  foolish  thing.  Without  a  sight  of  what  I  was 
shooting  at,  I  shot  hastily  into  the  bush.  The  snarl 
of  a  leopard  told  me  what  kind  of  a  customer  I  was 
taking  chances  with.  A  leopard  is  a  cat  and  has  all 
the  qualities  that  gave  rise  to  the  “nine  lives”  legend: 
To  kill  him  you  have  got  to  kill  him  clear  to  the  tip  of 
his  tail.  Added  to  that,  a  leopard,  unlike  a  lion,  is 
vindictive.  A  wounded  leopard  will  fight  to  a  finish 
practically  every  time,  no  matter  how  many  chances 
Jt  has  to  escape.  Once  aroused,  its  determination  is / 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


98 

fixed  on  fight,  and  if  a  leopard  ever  gets  hold,  it  claws 
and  bites  until  its  victim  is  in  shreds.  All  this  was 
in  my  mind,  and  I  began  looking  about  for  the  best 
way  out  of  it,  for  I  had  no  desire  to  try  conclusions 
with  a  possibly  wounded  leopard  when  it  was  so  late 
in  the  day  that  I  could  not  see  the  sights  of  my  rifle. 


The  dotted  line  indicates  Mr.  Akeley’s  movement  during  his  encounter 
with  the  leopard.  The  dashes  show  the  route  taken  by  the  leopard.  At 
position  (1),  Mr.  Akeley  fired  into  the  bush.  Of  the  three  shots  fired  at 
position  (2),  two  went  above  the  leopard  and  the  third  inflicted  only  a  skin 
wound.  The  hand-to-hand  combat  took  place  at  position  (3). 


My  intention  was  to  leave  it  until  morning  and  if  it 
had  been  wounded,  there  might  then  be  a  chance  of 
finding  it.  I  turned  to  the  left  to  cross  to  the  opposite 
bank  of  a  deep,  narrow  tug  and  when  there  I  found 
that  I  was  on  an  island  where  the  tug  forked,  and  by 
going  along  a  short  distance  to  the  point  of  the  island 
I  would  be  in  position  to  see  behind  the  bush  where 
the  leopard  had  stopped.  But  what  I  had  started 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS  99 

the  leopard  was  intent  on  finishing.  While  peering 
about  I  detected  the  beast  crossing  the  tug  about 
twenty  yards  above  me.  I  again  began  shooting, 
although  I  could  not  see  to  aim.  However,  I  could 
see  where  the  bullets  struck  as  the  sand  spurted  up 
beyond  the  leopard.  The  first  two  shots  went  above 
her,  but  the  third  scored.  The  leopard  stopped  and 
I  thought  she  was  killed.  The  pony  boy  broke  into 
a  song  of  triumph  which  was  promptly  cut  short  by 
another  song  such  as  only  a  thoroughly  angry  leopard 
is  capable  of  making  as  it  charges.  For  just  a  flash 
I  was  paralyzed  with  fear,  then  came  power  for  action. 
I  worked  the  bolt  of  my  rifle  and  became  conscious 
that  the  magazine  was  empty.  At  the  same  instant 
I  realized  that  a  solid  point  cartridge  rested  in  the 
palm  of  my  left  hand,  one  that  I  had  intended,  as  I 
came  up  to  the  dead  hyena,  to  replace  with  a  soft 
nose.  If  I  could  but  escape  the  leopard  until  I  could 
get  the  cartridge  into  the  chamber! 

As  she  came  up  the  bank  on  one  side  of  the  point 
of  the  island,  I  dropped  down  the  other  side  and  ran 
about  to  the  point  from  which  she  had  charged,  by 
which  time  the  cartridge  was  in  place,  and  I  wheeled 
— to  face  the  leopard  in  mid-air.  The  rifle  was 
knocked  flying  and  in  its  place  was  eighty  pounds  of 
frantic  cat.  Her  intention  was  to  sink  her  teeth  into 
my  throat  and  with  this  grip  and  her  forepaws  hang  to 
me  while  with  her  hind  claws  she  dug  out  my  stomach, 
for  this  pleasant  practice  is  the  way  of  leopards. 
However,  happily  for  me,  she  missed  her  aim.  In¬ 
stead  of  getting  my  throat  she  was  to  one  side.  She, 


IOO 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


struck  me  high  in  the  chest  and  caught  my  upper 
right  arm  with  her  mouth.  This  not  only  saved  my 
throat  but  left  her  hind  legs  hanging  clear  where  they 
could  not  reach  my  stomach.  With  my  left  hand  I 
caught  her  throat  and  tried  to  wrench  my  right  arm 
free,  but  I  couldn't  do  it  except  little  by  little.  When 
I  got  grip  enough  on  her  throat  to  loosen  her  hold  just 
a  little  she  would  catch  my  arm  again  an  inch  or  two 
lower  down.  In  this  way  I  drew  the  full  length  of  the 
arm  through  her  mouth  inch  by  inch.  I  was  conscious 
of  no  pain,  only  of  the  sound  of  the  crushing  of  tense 
muscles  and  the  choking,  snarling  grunts  of  the  beast. 
As  I  pushed  her  farther  and  farther  down  my  arm  I 
bent  over,  and  finally  when  it  was  almost  freed  I  fell 
to  the  ground,  the  leopard  underneath  me,  my  right 
hand  in  her  mouth,  my  left  hand  clutching  her  throat, 
my  knees  on  her  lungs,  my  elbows  in  her  armpits 
spreading  her  front  legs  apart  so  that  the  frantic 
clawing  did  nothing  more  than  tear  my  shirt.  Her 
body  was  twisted  in  an  effort  to  get  hold  of  the  ground 
to  turn  herself,  but  the  loose  sand  offered  no  hold. 
For  a  moment  there  was  no  change  in  our  positions, 
and  then  for  the  first  time  I  began  to  think  and  hope  I 
had  a  chance  to  win  this  curious  fight.  Up  to  that 
time  it  had  been  simply  a  good  fight  in  which  I  ex¬ 
pected  to  lose,  but  now  if  I  could  keep  my  advantage 
perhaps  the  pony  boy  would  come  with  a  knife.  I 
called,  but  to  no  effect.  I  still  held  her  and  continued 
to  shove  the  hand  down  her  throat  so  hard  she  could 
not  close  her  mouth  and  with  the  other  I  gripped  her 
throat  in  a  strangle  hold.  Then  I  surged  down  on 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS  101 

her  with  my  knees.  To  my  surprise  I  felt  a  rib  go. 
I  did  it  again.  I  felt  her  relax,  a  sort  of  letting  go, 
although  she  was  still  struggling.  At  the  same  time 
I  felt  myself  weakening  similarly,  and  then  it  became 
a  question  as  to  which  would  give  up  first.  Little 
by  little  her  struggling  ceased.  My  strength  had  out¬ 
lasted  hers. 

After  what  seemed  an  interminable  passage  of 
time  I  let  go  and  tried  to  stand,  calling  to  the  pony 
boy  that  it  was  finished.  He  now  screwed  up  his 
courage  sufficiently  to  approach.  Then  the  leopard 
began  to  gasp,  and  I  saw  that  she  might  recover;  so 
I  asked  the  boy  for  his  knife.  He  had  thrown  it 
awayjn  his  fear,  but  quickly  found  it,  and  I  at  last 
made  certain  that  the  beast  was  dead.  As  I  looked 
at  her  later  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  what  had 

t 

saved  me  was  the  first  shot  I  had  fired  when  she  went 
into  the  bush.  It  had  hit  her  right  hind  foot.  I 
think  it  was  this  broken  foot  which  threw  out  the  aim 
of  her  spring  and  made  her  get  my  arm  instead  of  my 
throat.  With  the  excitement  of  the  battle  still  on 
me  I  did  not  realize  how  badly  used  up  I  was.  I 
tried  to  shoulder  the  leopard  to  carry  it  to  camp,  but 
was  very  soon  satisfied  to  confine  my  efforts  to  getting 
myself  to  camp. 

When  I  came  inside  the  zareba ,  my  companions  were 
at  dinner  before  one  of  the  tents.  They  had  heard 
the  shots  and  had  speculated  on  the  probabilities. 
They  had  decided  that  I  was  in  a  mix-up  with  a  lion 
or  with  natives,  but  that  I  would  have  the  enemy  or 
the  enemy  would  have  me  before  they  could  get  to 


102 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


me;  so  they  had  continued  their  dinner.  The  fatalis¬ 
tic  spirit  of  the  country  had  prevailed.  When  I 
came  within  their  range  of  vision,  however,  my  ap¬ 
pearance  was  quite  sufficient  to  arrest  attention,  for, 
my  clothes  were  all  ripped,  my  arm  was  chewed  into 
an  unpleasant  sight,  and  there  was  blood  and  dirt  all 
over  me.  Moreover,  my  demands  for  all  the  anti¬ 
septics  in  camp  gave  them  something  to  do,  for  noth¬ 
ing  was  keener  in  my  mind  than  that  the  leopard  had 
been  feeding  on  the  diseased  hyena  that  I  had  shot 
in  the  morning.  To  the  practical  certainty  of  blood 
poisoning  from  any  leopard  bite  not  quickly  treated 
was  added  the  certainty  that  this  leopard’s  mouth 
was  particularly  foul  with  disease.  While  my  com¬ 
panions  were  getting  the  surgical  appliances  ready, 
my  boys  were  stripping  me  and  dousing  me  with  cold 
water.  That  done,  the  antiseptic  was  pumped  into 
every  one  of  the  innumerable  tooth  wounds  until  my 
arm  was  so  full  of  the  liquid  that  an  injection  in  one 
drove  it  out  of  another.  During  the  process  I  nearly 
regretted  that  the  leopard  had  not  won.  But  it  was 
applied  so  quickly  and  so  thoroughly  that  it  was  a 
complete  case. 

Later  in  the  evening  they  brought  the  leopard  in 
and  laid  it  beside  my  cot.  Her  right  hind  foot 
showed  where  the  first  shot  had  hit  her.  The  only 
other  bullet  that  struck  her  was  the  last  before  she 
charged  and  that  had  creased  her  just  under  the  skin 
on  the  back  of  the  neck,  from  the  shock  of  which  she 
had  instantly  recovered. 

This  encounter  took  place  fairly  soon  after  our 


MR.  AKELEY  AND  THE  LEOPARD  HE  KILLED  BARE 

HANDED 


A  LEOPARD  SPEARED  BY  THE  NATIVES 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS 


103 

arrival  on  my  first  trip  to  Africa.  I  have  seen  a  lot 
of  leopards  since  and  occasionally  killed  one,  but 
I  have  taken  pains  never  to  attempt  it  at  such  close 
quarters  again.  In  spite  of  their  fighting  qualities 
I  have  never  got  to  like  or  respect  leopards  very  much. 
This  is  not  because  of  my  misadventure;  I  was  hurt 
much  worse  by  an  elephant,  but  I  have  great  respect 
and  admiration  for  elephants.  I  think  it  is  because 
the  leopard  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  sneaking 
kind  of  animal,  and  also  perhaps  because  he  will 
eat  carrion  even  down  to  a  dead  and  diseased  hyena. 
A  day  or  two  before  my  experience  with  the  leopard 
someone  else  had  shot  a  hyena  near  our  camp  and 
had  left  him  over  night.  The  next  morning  the  dead 
hyena  was  lodged  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground  in  the 
crotch  of  a  tree  at  some  distance  from  where  he  was 
killed.  A  leopard,  very  possibly  my  enemy,  had 
dragged  him  along  the  ground  and  up  the  tree  and 
placed  him  there  for  future  use.  While  such  activi¬ 
ties  cannot  increase  one's  respect  for  the  taste  of 
leopards,  they  do  give  convincing  evidence  of  the 
leopard's  strength,  for  the  hyena  weighed  at  least  as 
much  as  the  leopard. 

The  leopard,  like  the  elephant,  is  at  home  in  every 
kind  of  country  in  East  Africa — on  the  plains,  among 
the  rocky  hills,  among  the  bamboo,  and  in  the  forest 
all  the  way  up  to  timber  line  on  the  equatorial  moun¬ 
tains.  Unlike  the  lion,  the  leopard  is  a  solitary  beast. 
Except  for  a  mother  with  young,  I  have  never  seen  as 
many  as  two  leopards  together.  It  is  my  belief  that 
like  the  lion  they  do  their  hunting  at  night  almost 


io4  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

exclusively,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  this  is  their 
general  habit  despite  the  fact  that  the  only  unmis¬ 
takable  evidence  of  day  hunting  I  ever  saw  myself  in 
Africa  was  done  by  a  leopard.  I  was  out  one  day  in 
some  tall  grass  and  came  upon  the  body  of  a  small 
antelope.  As  I  came  up  I  heard  an  animal  retreat 
and  I  thought  I  recognized  a  leopard’s  snarl.  The 
antelope  was  still  warm.  It  had  evidently  just  been 
killed  and  the  tracks  around  it  were  those  of  a  leop¬ 
ard. 

,  One  of  the  leopard’s  chief  sources  of  food  supply 
consists  of  monkeys  and  baboons.  I  remember  a 
certain  camp  we  had  near  the  bottom  of  a  cliff.  Out 
of  this  cliff  grew  a  number  of  fig  trees  in  which  the 
*  ^baboons  were  accustomed  to  sleep  fairly  well  out  of 
reach  of  the  leopards.  They  were,  however,  not  com¬ 
pletely  immune,  and  we  could  hear  the  leopards  at 
the  top  of  the  cliff  almost  every  night,  and  once  in  a 
while  the  remnants  of  a  baboon  testified  to  the  success 
of  the  leopard’s  night  prowling.  Besides  monkeys 
and  baboons,  leopards  seem  inordinately  fond  of  dogs. 
A  pack  of  dogs  like  Paul  Rainey’s  can  make  short 
work  of  a  leopard,  but  on  the  other  hand  a  leopard 
can  make  short  work  of  a  single  dog  and  seemingly 
takes  great  pleasure  in  doing  so.  One  night  in  a 
shack  in  Nyiri,  a  settler  sat  talking  to  his  neighbour, 
while  his  dog  slept  under  the  table.  Suddenly,  and 
quite  unannounced,  a  leopard  slipped  in  through  the 
open  door.  Confusion  reigned  supreme  for  a  moment 
and  then  the  men  found  themselves  on  the  table. 
The  leopard  was  under  the  table  killing  the  dog  and 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS  105 

somehow  in  the  excitement  the  door  had  been  closed. 
One  after  the  other  the  men  fled  out  of  the  window, 
leaving  the  dog  to  his  fate.  A  traveller  had  a  similar 
but  more  painful  experience  with  a  leopard  at  the 
Dak  Bungalow  at  Voi.  Voi  is  a  station  on  the 
Uganda  Railroad  where  there  was,  and  I  suppose  still 
is,  a  railroad  hotel  of  a  rather  primitive  kind  known 
as  the  Dak  Bungalow.  One  night  a  man  was  sleeping 
in  one  of  the  Bungalow  rooms  and,  hearing  a  com¬ 
motion  outside,  he  started  out  to  see  what  it  was.  As 
he  passed  through  the  open  doorway  on  to  the  porch 
he  was  attacked  by  the  leopard  that  had  evidently 
come  stalking  his  dogs. 

Leopards  are  not  particularly  afraid  of  man.  I 
never  knew  one  to  attack  a  man  unprovoked  exceptor 
when  caught  at  such  close  quarters  as  the  case  at 
Voi,  but  they  prowl  around  man’s  habitation  without 
compunction.  I  had  a  camp  in  Somaliland  once 
where  the  tents  were  surrounded  by  two  thorn  thick¬ 
ets — the  inner  and  outer  zareba .  A  leopard  came  in 
one  night,  killed  a  sheep,  dragged  it  under  the  very 
fly  of  my  tent  on  the  way  out,  jumped  the  zareba , 
and  got  away.  Fifteen  years  ago,  when  Nairobi  was  a 
very  small  place,  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  govern¬ 
ment  officers  went  into  her  room  one  evening  to  dress. 
As  she  opened  the  door  she  heard  a  noise  and  looking 
she  noticed  the  end  of  a  leopard’s  tail  sticking  out 
from  under  the  bed  with  the  tip  gently  moving  from 
side  to  side.  With  great  presence  of  mind  the  young 
lady  quietly  went  out  and  closed  the  door.  Nairobi 
had  many  possibilities  of  thrills  in  those  days.  It 


106  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

was  about  the  same  time  that  a  gentleman  hurrying 
from  town  up  to  the  Government  House  one  evening 
met  a  lion  in  the  middle  of  the  street  to  the  embarrass¬ 
ment  of  both  parties. 

There  are  some  phrases  in  Tennyson’s  “Charge  of 
the  Light  Brigade”  that  put  me  in  mind  of  the  rhi¬ 
noceros,  or  “rhino,”  as  everyone  calls  him  in  Africa. 

4 ‘Theirs  not  to  reason  why,  theirs  but  to  do  and 

die.” 

But  it  is  stupidity,  not  duty,  that  keeps  the  rhino 
from  reasoning.  He  is  the  stupidest  old  fellow  in 
Africa.  I  know  that  many  experienced  hunters  like¬ 
wise  consider  him  one  of  the  most  dangerous  animals 
in  Africa.  I  can’t  quite  agree  with  this.  Of  course, 
if  he  runs  over  you  not  only  is  it  dangerous,  but  it  is 
also  likely  to  be  fatal.  It  is  also  true  that  as  soon  as 
he  smells  man  he  is  likely  to  start  charging  around  in 
a  most  terrifying  manner,  but  the  rhino  is  never  cun¬ 
ning  like  the  elephant,  nor  is  his  charge  accurate  like 
that  of  a  lion,  nor  is  the  rhino  vindictive  like  the 
buffalo  or  the  leopard.  Most  men’s  estimates  of  the 
relative  dangers  of  African  animals  are  based  upon 
their  own  experiences.  The  animals  that  have  mauled 
them  worst  or  scared  them  worst  they  hold  most 
dangerous.  I  have  been  mauled  by  an  elephant, 
chewed  by  a  leopard,  and  scared  half  to  death  a  dozen 
times  by  lions,  so  that  I  have  the  very  firmest  con¬ 
victions  about  the  dangers  of  these  animals.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  have  twice  been  caught  by  rhinos  in 
positions  where  an  elephant,  a  lion,  or  a  leopard  would 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS 


107 

have  had  me  in  no  time,  and  both  times  the  rhinos 
left  me  unmolested. 

When  I  first  went  to  Africa  I  had  the  same  ex¬ 
perience  as  everyone  else.  Rhinos  getting  wind  of 
me  would  charge  me  and  to  save  myself  Fd  shoot.  I 
suppose  I  had  stood  off  twenty  of  these  charges  with 
my  rifle  before  I  discovered  that  if  I  did  not  shoot  it 
would  not  necessarily  be  fatal.  I  discovered  the  fact, 
of  course,  quite  by  accident.  I  was  going  along  the 
bank  of  the  Tana  River  one  day  with  my  camera. 
My  gun  boys  were  some  distance  behind  so  as  not  to 
disturb  any  animal  that  might  afford  a  picture.  Sud¬ 
denly  I  was  set  all  a-quiver  by  the  threshings  and 
snortings  of  a  rhino  coming  through  the  bushes  in 
my  direction.  I  very  hastily  took  stock  qf  the  situa¬ 
tion.  There  was  nothing  to  climb.  Between  me 
and  the  thicket  from  which  the  rhino  was  coming 
was  about  twenty-five  feet  of  open  space.  Behind 
me  was  a  30-foot  drop  to  the  crocodile-infested  waters 
of  the  Tana.  The  only  hope  I  saw  was  a  bush  over¬ 
hanging  the  brink  which  looked  as  if  it  might  or  might 
not  hold  me  if  I  swung  out  on  it.  I  decided  to  try 
the  bush  and  let  the  rhino  land  in  the  river,  trusting  to 
luck  that  I  wouldn’t  join  him  there.  The  bushes 
were  thrust  aside  and  he  came  full  tilt  into  the  open¬ 
ing  where  he  could  see  me.  Everything  was  set  for 
the  final  act.  He  suddenly  stopped  with  a  snort. 
His  head  drooped.  His  eyes  almost  closed.  He 
looked  as  if  he  were  going  to  sleep.  The  terrible 
beast  had  become  absolutely  ludicrous.  While  this 
was  going  on  I  felt  a  poke  in  my  back.  I  reached 


ic8  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

behind  and  took  my  rifle  from  the  gun  boy  who  had 
come  up  with  equal  celerity  and  bravery.  I  drew  a 
bead  on  the  old  fellow  but  I  could  not  shoot.  A 
stupider  or  more  ludicrous  looking  object  I  never 
saw.  I  began  talking  to  him,  but  it  did  not  rouse 
him  from  his  lethargy.  There  he  stood,  half  asleep 
and  totally  oblivious,  while  I,  with  the  gun  half  aimed, 
talked  to  him  about  his  ugly  self.  About  this  time 
my  porters  came  into  hearing  on  a  path  behind  the 
rhino.  He  pricked  up  his  ears  and  blundered  off  in 
that  direction.  I  heard  the  loads  dropping  as  the 
porters  made  for  the  trees.  The  rhino  charged 
through  the  safari  and  off  into  the  bush. 

At  another  time,  somewhat  later,  three  of  them 
charged  me  when  I  was  sitting  down  and  unarmed. 

I  couldn’t  rise  in  time  to  get  away  or  reach  a  gun,  so 
1  merely  continued  to  sit.  This  time  they  didn  t  stop 
and  doze,  but  they  went  by  on  both  sides  ten  or  fifteen 
feet  away.  Such  a  charge  was  much  more  pleasing 
to  me  and  apparently  quite  as  satisfactory  to  them  as 
one  in  which  they  were  successful  in  their  attack. 
These  experiences  have  led  me  to  think  that  in  his 
blundering  charges  the  rhino  has  no  clear  objective,  as 
a  lion  has,  for  instance.  Even  his  blundering  charge 
is  dangerous,  of  course,  if  you  are  in  the  way,  but  I 
firmly  believe  that  the  rhino  is  too  stupid  to  be  either 
accurate  in  his  objective,  fixed  in  his  purpose,  or 
vindictive  in  his  intentions. 

This  does  not  mean  that  a  lot  of  people  have  not 
been  killed  by  rhinos.  They  have;  but  I  do  believe 
that  compared  with  other  African  animals  the  danger 


LEOPARDS  AND  RHINOS  109 

of  the  rhino  is  generally  exaggerated.  When  he 
smells  something  he  comes  toward  the  scent  until 
he  sees  what  it  is.  As  he  can't  see  very  far,  no  man 
with  a  gun  is  likely  to  let  him  come  within  seeing  dis¬ 
tance  without  shooting.  So  the  stupid  old  beast 
goes  charging  around  hoping  to  see  the  source  of 
what  he  smells  and  in  addition  to  getting  himself  shot 
has  made  a  reputation  for  savagery.  In  fact,  he  has 
blundered  around  and  been  shot  so  much  that  old 
rhinos  with  big  horns  are  growing  scarce. 

I  remember  coming  up  over  the  top  of  a  little  rise 
one  day  and  seeing  across  the  plain  an  old  rhino 
standing  motionless  in  the  shade  of  a  solitary  acacia 
about  two  hundred  yards  away.  The  usual  tick  birds 
sat  on  his  back.  It  was  a  typical  rhino  pose.  As  I 
stood  looking  for  more  entertainment,  a  second  rhino 
came  mouching  along  between  me  and  number  one. 
Number  one  evidently  heard  him.  The  birds  flew 
off  his  back,  he  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  broke  into  a 
charge  toward  number  two.  Number  two  recipro¬ 
cated.  Their  direction  was  good  and  they  had 
attained  full  speed.  I  longed  for  a  camera  to  photo¬ 
graph  the  collision.  But  the  camera  would  have 
done  me  no  good.  The  collision  did  not  happen. 
When  about  twenty  feet  from  each  other  they  stopped 
dead,  snorted,  and  turned  around,  number  one  return¬ 
ing  to  doze  under  his  tree  and  number  two  continuing 
the  journey  which  had  been  interrupted.  I  suppose 
that  rhinos  have  acquired  the  habit  of  charging  when¬ 
ever  they  smell  anything  because  until  the  white  man 
came  along  they  could  investigate  in  this  peculiar 


no 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

manner  with  impunity.  Everything  but  an  elephant 
or  another  rhino  would  get  out  of  the  way  of  one  of 
these  investigating  rushes,  and  of  course  an  elephant 
or  another  rhino  is  big  enough  for  even  the  rhino  s 
poor  eyes  to  see  before  he  gets  into  trouble. 

The  coming  of  the  white  man  with  the  rifle  upset 
all  this,  but  the  rhino  has  learned  less  about  protect¬ 
ing  himself  from  man  than  the  other  animals.  Man 
went  even  further  in  breaking  the  rules  of  rhino  exist¬ 
ence.  The  railroad  was  an  even  worse  affront  than 
the  rifle.  The  rhino  furnished  some  of  the  comedy 
of  the  invasion  of  the  game  country  by  the  Uganda 
Railway.  In  the  early  days  of  that  road  a  friend  of 
mine  was  on  the  train  one  day  when  a  rhino  charged  it. 
The  train  was  standing  still  out  in  the  middle  of  the 
plain.  An  old  rhino,  either  hearing  it  or  smelling 
man,  set  out  on  the  customary  charge.  The  train 
didn’t  move  and  he  didn’t  swerve.  He  hit  the  run¬ 
ning  board  of  one  car  at  full  speed.  There  was  a 
terrific  jolt.  My  friend  rushed  to  the  platform.  As 
he  reached  it  the  rhino  was  getting  up  off  his  knees. 
He  seemed  a  little  groggy  but  he  trotted  off,  conscious, 
perhaps,  that  railroad  trains  cannot  be  routed  by  the 
rhino’s  traditional  method  of  attack. 


CHAPTER  VI 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 

THE  land  teems  with  the  beasts  of  the  chase, 
infinite  in  number  and  incredible  in  variety. 
It  holds  the  fiercest  beasts  of  ravin,  and  the 
fleetest  and  most  timid  of  those  beings  that  live  in 
undying  fear  of  talon  and  fang.  It  holds  the  largest 
and  the  smallest  of  hoofed  animals.  It  holds  the 
mightiest  creatures  that  tread  the  earth  or  swim  in 
its  rivers;  it  also  holds  distant  kinsfolk  of  these  same 
creatures,  no  bigger  than  woodchucks,  which  dwell  in 
crannies  of  the  rocks  and  in  tree  tops.  There  are 
antelope  smaller  than  hares  and  antelope  larger  than 
oxen.  There  are  creatures  which  are  the  embodi¬ 
ments  of  grace,  and  others  whose  huge  ungainliness 
is  like  that  of  a  shape  in  a  nightmare.  The  plains 
are  alive  with  droves  of  strange  and  beautiful  animals 
whose  like  is  not  known  elsewhere;  and  with  others 
even  stranger  that  show  both  in  form  and  temper 
something  of  the  fantastic  and  the  grotesque.” 

So  Theodore  Roosevelt,  in  that  vivid  word  picture 
of  jungle  sights  and  sounds,  the  foreword  of  “African 
Game  Trails,,,  suggests  the  vast  variety  of  animal 
acquaintances  the  hunter  may  make  in  Africa.  I 
have  sought  out  or  happened  upon  many  others  be¬ 
sides  my  particular  friends,  the  elephants  and  gorillas. 

hi. 


1 1 2 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


One  of  those  whose  “  huge  ungainliness  is  like  that  of 
a  shape  in  a  nightmare”  is  the  hippopotamus.  The 
small  dugout  in  which  the  native  makes  his  way  up 
and  down  the  Tana  River  is  just  a  nice  mouthful  for 
him.  He  can  splinter  one  between  his  great  jaws  in 
no  time  if  he  is  sufficiently  stirred  up,  but  fortunately 
for  the  natives  he  is  not  easily  enraged.  He  is  more 
or  less  like  the  rhinoceros  except  that,  while  he  is 
equally  stupid,  he  rarely  gets  mad  and  so  is  not  often 
dangerous. 

Along  the  Tana  River  in  1906  the  hippos  were 
still  very  abundant,  and  I  presume  that  a  huntei 
passing  along  that  stream  to-day  might  shoot  all  he 
could  possibly  want.  Although  I  saw  probably  only 
a  small  proportion  of  all  I  actually  passed,  I  counted 
more  than  two  hundred  in  a  ten-mile  march  along 
the  Tana.  Sheltered  by  the  rather  high  and  precipi¬ 
tous  banks  of  the  river,  the  hippopotami  if  undis¬ 
turbed  bask  quietly  on  the  sand-bars  during  the  day. 
If  one  is  disturbed,  he  takes  to  the  water,  leaving 
exposed  only  the  top  of  his  head,  his  eyes,  and  nos¬ 
trils,  so  that  if  he  remains  motionless  one  usually 
has  to  spend  some  time  to  determine  whether  the 
object  protruding  from  the  water  is  a  hippo’s  head 
or  a  slate-coloured  rock.  If  really  frightened,  he 
submerges  entirely,  exposing  only  his  nostrils  and 
those  just  long  enough  to  blow  and  take  in  a  fresh 
supply  of  air.  Then  down  he  goes,  not  to  appear 
again  for  several  minutes,  frequently  in  quite  a  differ¬ 
ent  place. 

Cuninghame  and  I  had  a  good  opportunity  to  test 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL  113 

his  disposition  one  day  as  we  were  crossing  Lake 
Naivasha.  I  was  sitting  at  the  tiller  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat  about  half  asleep  in  the  hot  sun  of  midday 
when  there  was  a  sudden  explosion  and  our  boat  was 
lifted  well  out  of  the  water.  The  keel  had  struck 
the  back  of  a  submerged  hippopotamus.  He  came 
up  thirty  yards  away  with  his  mouth  open,  but  he 
made  no  attempt  to  attack.  We  had  the  good  luck 
to  come  down  right  side  up,  shipping  only  a  little 
water.  I  hope  he  was  as  badly  frightened  as  I  was. 

Because  he  is  so  little  sport,  even  the  pot  hunters 
have  left  the  hippo  alone.  However,  most  of  the 
African  tribes  consider  hippopotamus  meat  good  eat¬ 
ing  and  he  is  frequently  killed  by  the  natives  for  food. 
The  fact  is  that  in  times  of  famine  this  animal  is  a 
valuable  source  of  supply.  In  1906,  when  we  were 
on  the  Tana  River,  I  found  a  bone  yard  with  the 
bones  of  a  great  number  of  hippopotami  along  with 
various  human  bones.  In  a  famine  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  years  earlier,  so  the  story  goes,  the  natives 
had  gravitated  toward  the  Tana  River  to  kill  hippo¬ 
potami  to  keep  from  starving  and  there  had  fought 
over  this  last  source  of  food. 

Double  rows  of  tracks  with  grass  growing  between 
them,  like  those  made  by  a  wagon,  trail  along  the 
Tana  and  are  cut  deep  into  the  river's  banks,  where 
through  long  years  the  hippos  have  come  up  at  night 
to  graze  and  browse.  His  is  a  double  track,  because 
in  travelling  he  does  not  place  one  foot  before  the 
other.  He  finds  no  food  in  the  water,  but  he  is  at 
home  there,  and  sometimes  travels  long  distances 


114  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

overland  from  one  pool  or  stream  to  another.  How 
far  he  treks  in  this  way  I  do  not  know,  and  the  ques¬ 
tion  is  much  disputed.  I  am  certain  that  it  is  some¬ 
times  as  much  as  fifty  miles. 

While  I  have  found  but  little  enjoyment  in  shooting 
any  kind  of  animal,  I  confess  that  in  hunting  ele¬ 
phants  and  lions  under  certain  conditions  I  have  al¬ 
ways  felt  that  the  animal  had  sufficient  chance  in  the 
game  to  make  it  something  like  a  sporting  proposi¬ 
tion.  On  the  other  hand,  much  of  the  shooting  that 
I  have  had  to  do  in  order  to  obtain  specimens  for 
museum  collections  has  had  none  of  this  aspect  at 
all  and  has  made  me  feel  a  great  deal  like  a  murderer. 
One  of  the  worst  of  my  experiences  was  with  the 
wild  ass  of  Somaliland  on  my  first  trip  to  Africac 
These  animals  are  rare,  and  as  they  are  the  only  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  horse  family  in  that  part  of  Africa,  the 
Field  Museum  of  Natural  History  was  anxious  to  get 
specimens  of  them. 

After  several  heart-breaking  days’  work  my  com¬ 
panion,  Dodson,  and  I  had  secured  but  one  specimen 
and  several  were  needed  for  a  group.  One  day 
under  guidance  of  natives  who  promised  to  take  us 
to  a  country  where  they  abounded,  we  started  out 
at  three  o’clock  in  the  morning,  with  a  couple  of 
camels  to  bring  back  the  skins  if  we  got  them.  At 
about  eight,  as  we  were  crossing  a  sandy  plain  where 
here  and  there  a  dwarfed  shrub  or  tuft  of  grass  had 
managed  to  find  sustenance,  one  of  the  gun-bearers 
pointed  out  in  the  distance  an  object  which  he  de- 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL  115 

dared  to  be  an  ass.  We  advanced  slowly.  As  there 
was  no  cover,  there  was  no  possibility  of  a  stalk,  and 
the  chance  of  a  shot  at  reasonable  range  seemed  re¬ 
mote,  for  we  had  found  in  our  previous  experience 
that  the  wild  ass  is  extremely  shy  and  when  once 
alarmed  travels  rapidly  and  for  long  distances.  We 
approached  to  within  two  hundred  yards  and  had 
begun  to  think  that  it  was  a  native’s  tame  donkey 
and  expected  to  see  its  owner  appear  in  the  neighbour¬ 
hood,  when  it  became  uneasy  and  started  to  bolt;  but 
its  curiosity  brought  it  about  for  a  last  look  and  we 
took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  and  fired.  It  was 
hard  hit,  apparently,  but  recovered  and  stood  facing 
us.  We  approached  closer,  and  thinking  it  best  to 
take  no  chances  fired  again — and  then  he  merely 
walked  about  a  little,  making  no  apparent  effort  to 
go  away.  We  approached  carefully.  He  showed  no 
signs  of  fear,  and  although  “hard  hit”  stood  stolidly 
until  at  last  I  put  one  hand  on  his  withers  and,  trip¬ 
ping  him,  pushed  him  over.  I  began  to  feel  that  if 
this  was  sport  I  should  never  be  a  sportsman. 

We  now  discovered  that  our  scant  supply  of  water 
was  exhausted  and  although  we  wished  to  continue 
the  hunt  we  realized  that  to  get  farther  from  camp 
without  water  would  be  risky  indeed.  The  guide  had 
assured  us  that  there  would  be  plenty  of  opportunity 
to  get  water  on  our  route  but  we  knew  that  it  was  five 
hours  back  to  water,  the  way  we  had  come,  and  five 
hours  without  water  in  the  middle  of  the  day  would 
mean  torture.  It  is  said  that  in  that  region  thirty 
hours  without  water  means  death  to  the  native  and 


u6  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

twelve  hours  is  the  white  man’s  limit.  The  guide 
assured  us  that  if  we  would  continue  on  an  hour 
longer  we  would  find  water.  After  four  hours  of 
hard,  hot  marching  we  arrived  at  a  hole  in  the  ground 
where  some  time  there  had  been  water  but  not  a  drop 
remained.  After  a  little  digging  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hole  the  natives  declared  there  was  no  hope.  Our 
trail  for  the  last  hour  had  been  under  a  pitiless  noon¬ 
day  sun  along  a  narrow  valley  shut  in  on  either  side 
by  steep,  rocky  hills,  while  we  faced  a  veritable  sand 
storm,  a  strong,  hot  wind  that  drove  the  burning  sand 
into  our  faces  and  hands.  The  dry  well  was  the  last 
straw. 

The  guides  said  there  was  one  more  hole  about  an 
hour  away  and  they  would  go  and  see  if  there  was 
water  there.  They  with  the  gun-bearers  started  out, 
while  we  off-saddled  the  mules  and  using  the  saddles 
for  pillows  and  the  saddle  blankets  to  protect  our 
faces  from  the  driving  sand,  dozed  in  the  scant  shade 
of  a  leafless  thorn  tree. 

At  four  o’clock  the  boys  returned — no  water. 
Dodson  and  I  received  the  report,  looked  at  one  an¬ 
other,  and  returned  to  our  pillows  beneath  the  saddle 
blankets.  A  little  later  a  continued  prodding  in  the 
ribs  from  my  gun-bearer  brought  me  to  attention 
again  as  he  pointed  out  an  approaching  caravan  con¬ 
sisting  of  several  camels  and  a  couple  of  natives.  Each 
of  the  natives  carried  a  well-filled  goatskin  from  his 
shoulders,  and  realizing  that  these  goatskins  probably 
contained  milk,  I  knew  that  our  troubles  were  nearly 
over.  I  instructed  the  gun-bearer  to  make  a  bargain 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


117 

for  part  of  the  milk  and  covered  my  head  again  to 
escape  the  pelting  of  the  sand  and  waited. 

We  were  both  in  a  semi-comatose  state  and  I  paid 
no  further  attention  to  proceedings  until  I  was  again 
prodded  by  the  gun-bearer  who  was  now  greatly 
excited.  He  pointed  to  the  receding  camels  while  he 
jabbered  away  to  the  effect  that  the  natives  would  not 
part  with  any  of  the  plentiful  supply  of  milk.  The 
white  men  might  die  for  all  they  cared. 

When  I  had  come  to  a  realization  of  the  situation, 
there  seemed  to  be  only  one  solution  to  the  affair — 
a  perfectly  natural  solution — precisely  the  same  as 
if  they  had  stood  over  us  with  their  spears  poised  at 
our  hearts.  I  grabbed  my  rifle  and  drew  a  bead  on 
one  of  the  departing  men  and  called  to  Dodson  to 
get  up  and  cover  the  other.  I  waited  while  Dodson 
was  getting  to  an  understanding  of  the  game  and 
then  when  he  was  ready  and  I  was  about  to  give  the 
word  the  natives  stopped,  gesticulating  wildly.  The 
gun-bearer  who  had  been  shouting  to  them  told  us 
not  to  shoot,  that  the  milk  would  come,  and  it  did. 
Milk!  Originally  milked  into  a  dung-lined  smoked 
chattie ,  soured  and  carried  in  a  filthy  old  goatskin 
for  hours  in  the  hot  sun.  But  it  was  good.  I  have 
never  had  a  finer  drink. 

An  hour  before  sundown,  greatly  refreshed,  we 
started  back  to  camp.  Just  at  dusk  the  shadowy 
forms  of  five  asses  dashed  across  our  path  fifty  yards 
away  and  w?  heard  a  bullet  strike  as  we  took  a  snap 
at  them.  One  began  to  lag  behind  as  the  others  ran 
wildly  away.  The  one  soon  stopped  and  we  ap- 


1 1 8  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

proached,  keeping  him  covered  in  case  he  attempted 
to  bolt.  As  we  got  near  he  turned  and  faced  us  with 
great,  gentle  eyes.  Without  the  least  sign  of  fear  or 
anger  he  seemed  to  wonder  why  we  had  harmed  him. 

The  only  wound  was  from  a  small  bullet  high  in 
the  neck,  merely  a  flesh  wound  which  would  have 
caused  him  no  serious  trouble  had  he  continued  with 
the  herd.  We  walked  around  him  within  six  feet  and 
I  almost  believe  we  could  have  put  a  halter  on  him. 
Certainly  it  would  have  been  child's  play  to  have 
thrown  a  rope  over  his  head.  We  reached  camp 
about  midnight  and  I  announced  that  if  any  more 
wild  asses  were  wanted,  someone  else  would  have  to 
shoot  them.  I  had  had  quite  enough.  Normally, 
the  ass  is  one  of  the  wildest  of  creatures  and  it  is 
difficult  to  explain  the  actions  of  these  two.  They 
appeared  not  to  realize  that  we  were  the  cause  of 
their  injuries  but  rather  seemed  to  expect  relief  as 
we  approached — and  yet  one  English  “sportsman” 
boasted  of  having  killed  twenty-eight. 

While  I  have  never  had  a  zebra  stand  after  being 
wounded,  in  all  other  respects  his  habits  resemble 
very  closely  those  of  his  kin,  the  wild  ass  of  Somali¬ 
land.  Occasionally,  man  has  captured  and  domesti¬ 
cated  zebras  so  that  he  may  use  them  in  a  four-horse 
team.  But  this  is  done  only  for  the  amusement  it 
affords,  because  the  zebra,  like  all  wild  animals,  has 
never  quite  enough  of  the  endurance  that  is  bred  into 
a  domesticated  horse  to  make  him  useful  in  harness. 
In  wild  life  he  requires  only  sufficient  stamina 
outrun  a  lion  for  a  short  distance. 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


119 


There  is  no  fun  in  shooting  zebras  and  wild  asses. 
It  makes  one  uncomfortable.  Probably  we  are  par¬ 
ticularly  thin-skinned  when  it  comes  to  shooting  the 
members  of  the  horse  family  because  we  are  used  to 
them,  or  at  least  to  their  kindred,  as  domesticated 
friends,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  that  is  quite  as  reason¬ 
able  as  to  think  of  killing  deer  or  antelope  as  a  sport. 
With  most  deer  there  is  no  danger.  The  only  prob¬ 
lem  is  to  get  close  enough  for  a  shot.  While  an 
approach  may  be  difficult  in  some  parts  of  the  world 
• — and  this  is  true  with  certain  species  of  antelope  in 
Africa— most  of  the  plains  antelope  cannot  be  shot 
on  the  ground  of  sport.  For  food  and  scientific  pur¬ 
poses,  however,  the  case  is  different. 

'  One  of  the  hardest  to  shoot  among  the  so-called 
bovine  antelopes  is  the  koodoo.  He  is  a  beautiful, 
high-bred  animal  with  clean-cut  head  and  long  spiral 
horns.  While  almost  as  large  as  an  elk,  he  is  grace¬ 
fully  built  and  stylish  in  action.  His  coat  is  gray, 
delicately  marked  with  white  stripes.  As  the  animal 
matures,  the  hair  becomes  short  and  thin  and  the 
stripes  fade.  All  in  all,  the  koodoo  is  one  of  the  finest 
big  antelope.  On  that  score  he  has  no  competitors 
except  the  sable  and  the  roan. 

A  group  of  greater  koodoos  was  a  particular  desid¬ 
eratum  of  the  Field  Museum  and  therefore  one  of 
the  special  objectives  of  my  first  African  trip.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  we  succeeded  in  collecting  the  material 
necessary  and  the  group  is  on  exhibition  in  the  Field 
Museum  in  Chicago  now.  The  old  bull  standing 
with  lifted  head  on  top  of  the  rock  in  the  present 


120 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


group  was  the  second  koodoo  that  I  ever  saw.  The 
first  one  was  his  mate  whom  I  was  about  to  shoot, 
totally  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  the  old  bull. 
He  stood  beside  her,  his  outline  broken  up  by  sur¬ 
rounding  rocks  and  bushes,  and  I  overlooked  him  en¬ 
tirely  until  he  began  to  move.  As  he  started  to  run 
I  fired  a  shot.  He  bounded  into  the  air,  and  as  he 
struck  the  ground  I  fired  again.  The  first  shot  had 
gone  through  his  heart  and  the  second  broke  his  back. 

When  talking  to  people  about  shooting,  I  like  to 
recall  my  koodoo  experiences,  because,  while  I  am 
not  a  good  shot  as  shooting  goes  in  Africa,  my  two 
experiences  with  koodoos  compare  pretty  favourably 
with  the  best.  On  the  first  occasion,  one  of  my  two 
shots  landed  in  the  heart  and  the  other  broke  the 
koodoo's  back.  In  my  next  koodoo  hunt,  my  shoot¬ 
ing  was  even  more  remarkable  and  for  me  more  un¬ 
usual.  I  came  in  sight  of  this  second  koodoo  when 
he  was  too  far  away  to  shoot  at  and  he  rapidly  ran 
out  of  sight  through  a  country  of  little  hills  and  ra¬ 
vines  and  scrub  growth.  I  tracked  him  until  I  lost 
his  trail.  Then  I  decided  to  try  to  follow  him  by 
instinct  and,  constituting  myself  an  escaping  koodoo, 
I  went  where  I  thought  such  an  animal  should.  I 
knew  I  was  not  exactly  on  his  route  because  I  could 
see  no  tracks.  Then,  too,  something  cord-like, 
weaving  together  the  bushes  on  either  side  of  my 
path,  for  a  moment  impeded  my  progress.  It  was  a 
strand  of  web,  the  colour  of  gold,  spun  by  a  handsome 
yellow  spider  with  black  legs.  Twisted  together,  it 
was  substantial  enough  to  be  wound  around  and 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


121 


around  my  watch  chain  where  I  wore  it  for  several 
years.  Had  my  koodoo  passed  between  those  bushes, 
the  web  would,  I  knew,  have  been  his  necklace  in¬ 
stead  of  my  watch  charm. 

After  following  instinctively  for  two  or  three  miles, 
I  came  to  the  top  of  a  ridge  which  looked  down  across 
a  ravine  500  to  600  yards  wide.  I  crawled  to  the 
edge  and  looked  over  carefully,  hoping  to  see  my 
prey,  but  as  I  saw  nothing  I  decided  to  get  up  and 
either  scare  him  or  give  up  the  chase.  As  I  stood 
up  I  saw  him  halfway  across  the  ravine  a  little  more 
than  300  yards  away.  When  I  rose,  he  began  to  run 
in  the  opposite  direction.  I  had  little  chance  of  hit¬ 
ting  him  and  so  I  fired  at  the  rocks  on  the  other  side 
of  the  ravine.  The  wind  was  blowing  from  him  to  me 
and  I  did  not  know  how  distinctly  he  could  hear  the 
rifle,  but  there  was  no  doubt  about  his  hearing  the 
rocks  clatter  down  where  the  bullets  struck.  He 
stopped  abruptly,  listening,  and  as  he  did  so  I  lay 
down  and  rested  my  rifle  on  the  rocks.  He  was 
pausing  behind  a  candelabra  euphorbia  so  that  I 
could  see  nothing  but  his  head.  I  took  careful  aim 
and  fired.  A  fraction  of  a  second  after  the  shot,  when 
I  had  recovered  from  the  kick  of  the  rifle  and  had 
focussed  my  eyes  on  the  spot,  the  koodoo  was  no¬ 
where  in  sight.  When  I  reached  the  euphorbia,  he 
lay  there  dead.  I  looked  him  over  to  find  where  the 
bullet  had  hit  him  but  found  no  sign  of  it.  I  turned 
him  over  and  looked  at  his  other  side  with  no  better 
results  except  that  I  found  a  few  drops  of  blood.  On 
further  search  I  discovered  that  the  bullet  had  gone 


122 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


in  behind  his  ear.  As  he  listened  to  the  falling  rocks, 
the  ear  had  been  thrown  forward;  as  he  fell,  the  ear 
had  swung  back  to  normal  position  and  covered  the 
tiny  hole  made  by  the  full  mantled  bullet.  The 
bullet  had  come  out  of  his  eye,  but  when  I  got  there 
the  eye  was  closed,  so  that  the  point  of  exit  had  been 
concealed  also. 

One  day  as  I  approached  the  hills,  while  I  was  still 
hunting  koodoo  for  my  group,  I  saw  in  the  distance 
four  animals  which  I  took  to  be  koodoo.  They  stood 
on  a  rock-strewn  slope  beneath  an  acacia  tree  and,  as 
there  were  no  horns  visible,  I  assumed  that  they  were 
cows  and  calves.  I  required  one  of  each  to  complete 
my  group.  I  made  a  careful  stalk  along  the  same 
ravine  from  which  I  had  approached  my  first  koodoo 
and,  when  I  thought  that  I  was  at  about  the  right 
point,  I  peered  out  and  found  the  animals  standing 
where  I  had  seen  them  first,  apparently  about  200 
yards  away.  I  fired,  and  one  dropped  in  his  tracks. 
They  were  startled  but  had  not  located  my  direction 
and  ran  about  confusedly.  My  second  shot  dropped 
another  and  the  third  shot  wounded  one  which  ran 
almost  directly  toward  us.  He  covered  the  distance 
in  an  amazingly  short  time  and  went  down  beneath 
the  bush  only  a  little  way  from  me.  It  was  then  that 
I  came  to  a  realization  of  what  was  happening.  In¬ 
stead  of  being  koodoo  200  yards  away,  these  were 
antelope  pygmies  less  than  50  yards  away  and  not 
more  than  twenty-three  inches  high  at  the  shoulder. 
I  had  been  completely  fooled,  but  by  what?  That 
was  the  question. 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL  123 

I  went  over  to  the  bush  where  the  wounded  animal 
had  gone  down  near  me,  and  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  at  him  open-mouthed  and  wondering  what  he 
was.  Never  had  I  heard  of  such  an  antelope.  He 
had  sharp  straight  horns  four  inches  long  and  was  a 
beautiful  French  gray  in  colour.  Before  I  could 
observe  anything  else,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
darted  away  on  three  legs  faster,  it  seemed  to  me,  than 
anything  I  had  ever  seen  travel.  I  shot  several  times 
but  never  touched  him.  I  followed  for  hours  but  did 
not  overtake  him.  Later  I  learned  that  he  was  one  of 
the  little  beira  antelope.  The  species  had  been 
described  some  time  before  from  fragments  of  skin 
obtained  from  natives.  As  far  as  records  show, 
these  specimens,  an  adult  female  and  a  half-grown 
one,  were  the  first  specimens  taken  by  a  white  man. 

This  is  a  good  example  of  a  mistake  that  a  hunter 
may  easily  make  where  there  is  nothing  about  of 
known  size  to  give  scale.  The  outline  of  the  beira, 
characterized  by  the  large  ears,  is  almost  a  miniature 
of  that  of  the  koodoo.  These  tiny  antelope  had  stood 
against  a  background  of  acacias  on  a  pebbly  slope. 
Acacias  grow  both  large  and  small  and  a  pebble 
among  pebbles  on  a  distant  hillside  may  appear  as 
a  large  boulder. 

I  continued  hunting  the  little  devils  in  a  desperate 
effort  to  get  a  male  at  least.  Several  times  I  spent  the 
day  working  about  the  two  cone-shaped  hills,  now 
and  then  catching  glimpses  of  the  beira,  only  to  have 
them  disappear  before  I  could  shoot  or  get  near 
enough  to  shoot.  Several  times  when  leaving  the 


I24  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

hills  at  dusk  I  turned  around  to  see  just  on  the  skyline 
the  heads  and  necks  of  three  little  antelope  watching 
me  as  I  went  away  discouraged.  I  believe  they  are 
the  cunningest  little  beasties  in  all  Africa. 

As  my  beira  antelope  was  the  first  specimen  ever 
taken — or  at  least  recorded — by  a  white  man,  it  was 
a  record.  Another  record  head  which  I  took  came 
equally  by  chance.  One  evening  as  I  came  out  of 
the  forest,  after  some  rather  troublesome  experiences 
with  elephants,  I  caught  sight  of  a  bush  buck.  He 
caught  sight  of  me  also,  and  instead  of  making  off 
he  seemed  to  glare  at  me  and  stood  stamping  his  foot. 
I  may  have  imagined  his  emotions,  but  it  seemed  to 
me  that  all  the  animals  were  angry  with  me  that  day. 
I  remember  that  it  went  through  my  mind,  “I  be¬ 
lieve  this  fellow  is  going  to  charge,  too.”  Then  it 
occurred  to  me  that  we  needed  meat  in  camp,  so  I 
shot  him  and  told  the  boys  to  cut  him  up  and  bring 
him  in.  As  soon  as  they  reached  him,  they  called 
to  me  and  I  went  over  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 
They  showed  me  an  unusually  fine  head.  So  I  saved 
it.  It  turned  out  to  be  the  record  bush  buck  head  at 
that  time  and  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  not  still. 

The  lesser  koodoo,  which  is  to  be  found  in  Somali¬ 
land  in  the  aloe  country  at  the  base  of  the  Golis  range, 
is  likewise  a  truly  sporting  animal,  keen  of  sight  and 
scent  and  fleet  of  foot.  My  first  lesser  koodoo  stood 
looking  at  me  through  a  bush  no  more  than  twenty- 
five  yards  away.  My  gun  boy  tried  to  point  him  out 
to  me  but  I  saw  nothing  until  something  bit  the 
koodoo's  ear  and  he  flicked  it.  Realizing  that  he 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


125 

had  given  himself  away,  he  jumped  before  I  could 
shoot  and  I  tracked  him  for  an  hour  before  I  again 
came  upon  him.  Then  I  saw  him  first.  There  is 
no  finer  sight  in  Africa  than  a  lesser  koodoo  bull 
bounding  over  the  spiny  aloes  with  all  of  the  grace  of 
a  porpoise  in  the  water. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  antelope  of  Somaliland 
is  the  dibitag  or  Clark’s  gazelle.  The  dibitag  live 
in  the  waterless  bush  country  of  the  Haud  and  are 
shy  and  difficult  to  stalk.  With  their  long  legs  and 
long  necks  they  resemble  and  are  closely  related  to 
the  gerenuks  (Waller’s  gazelle),  but  are  less  well 
known  as  they  are  confined  to  a  limited  range.  In 
following  an  old  male  who  had  been  travelling  at  full 
speed  I  found  that  its  stride  averaged  twenty-eight 
feet,  but  at  the  same  time  he  kept  so  close  to  the 
ground  that  midway  of  the  stride,  when  one  foot  was 
carried  forward,  it  scraped  the  sand.  The  animal 
weighs  no  more  than  seventy-five  pounds.  It  is  the 
most  beautifully  developed  antelope  I  have  ever 
handled,  with  muscles  and  loins  rounded  out  like  those 
of  a  prize  fighter.  These  gazelle  never  have  any  fat 
and  never  drink  any  water.  In  fact,  there  is  no  water  to 
be  had  except  that  in  the  vegetation,  which  is  very  little 
in  a  country  where  it  has  not  rained  for  two  years. 

Unlike  these  sporting  animals,  the  gazelle  of  the 
plains  remind  one  of  great  herds  of  sheep,  so  gentle 
where  they  have  not  been  hunted  that  one  may  come 
close  enough  to  throw  stones  at  them.  On  the  other 
hand,  where  they  have  been  shot,  they  grow  wild  and 
very  difficult  to  approach.  Here  again  is  evidence 


120  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

that  the  thing  that  makes  animals  wild  is  man.  In 
the  antarctics  and  other  places  where  man  has  not 
previously  come  and  where  the  animals  know  no  fear, 
the  explorer  can  fairly  tickle  the  seals  under  the  chin. 
Animals  in  their  natural  state  are  not  instinctively 
afraid  of  man,  but  they  have  learned  from  sad  ex¬ 
perience  that  man  is  bad  medicine. 

In  direct  contrast  to  the  camp  in  Somaliland  where 
we  had  been  forced  to  quench  our  thirst  with  soured 
goat’s  milk  taken  from  a  passing  caravan  at  the  point 
of  a  rifle,  was  our  camp  on  Lake  Hannington,  the 
home  of  the  flamingos.  The  caravan  route  fromj 
Nakuru  on  the  Uganda  Railway  to  Lake  Baringo^ 
swings  in  close  to  the  Laikipia  Escarpment  at  the 
east  side  of  the  Rift  Valley  and  just  at  the  north  end 
of  Hannington.  Therefore,  travellers  usually  get 
their  first  view  of  the  lake  at  this  northern  point 
where  few  flamingos  are  to  be  seen  except  in  breeding 
season  and  where  the  water  is  shallow,  bordered  by 
low  mud  flats  crusted  with  a  deposit  of  salts  mingled 
with  feathers,  bones,  and  the  droppings  of  the  great 
colony.  If  the  unattractiveness  of  the  place  were  not 
sufficient  to  discourage  a  disposition  to  explore  the 
lake,  the  sickening  stench  from  the  green  waters  must 
dishearten  any  one  who  has  not  a  definite  object  in 
further  investigation.  Being  unfamiliar  with  the 
region,  we  ignored  the  trail  which  would  have  given 
us  this  forbidding  northern  approach.  As  we  neared 
the  escarpment  from  the  south,  we  found  a  small 
stream  of  crystal-clear  water,  and  although  it  was  too 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


127 

warm  to  be  palatable,  we  were  delighted  with  the 
discovery  since  the  porters  and  horses  were  sadly 
in  need  of  water.  We  decided  to  make  camp  here, 
and  while  selecting  a  place  for  the  tents,  the  cook 
discovered  a  spring  of  boiling  water  which  he  appro¬ 
priated  for  his  uses.  A  little  farther  on  a  spring  of 
ice-cold  water  was  located  so  that  we  had  all  modern 
improvements  as  far  at  least  as  water  supply  was 
concerned. 

After  making  camp,  an  hour’s  walk  brought  us  to 
the  top  of  a  rocky  hill  from  which  we  had  an  excellent 
view  of  nearly  the  entire  length  of  the  lake,  an  ir¬ 
regular  sheet  of  water  eight  or  ten  miles  long  by  per¬ 
haps  two  miles  at  the  widest  point.  It  lay  before 
us,  a  shimmering  blue-green  mirror  with  occasional 
strips  of  snow-white  beach.  At  the  south  end,  that 
part  nearest  us,  the  water  was  much  darker  in  colour 
owing  to  its  greater  depth,  and  the  steep  slopes  of 
the  escarpment  were  mirrored  in  its  surface.  Here 
and  there  along  the  shores  jets  and  clouds  of  steam 
spurted  forth  from  the  numerous  boiling  springs  and 
miniature  geysers.  Far  away  toward  the  centre  of 
the  lake  what  seemed  great  peninsulas  and  islands  of 
rosy  pink  broke  the  placid  surface  of  the  lake — these 
were  the  flamingos  that  we  had  come  to  see. 

A  two  hours’  journey  up  the  tortuous  rock-strewn 
western  shore  brought  us  to  the  region  which  seems 
to  be  their  favourite  haunt.  On  our  approach,  the 
great  flocks  rose  from  the  water  and  flew  across 
toward  the  opposite  shore,  many  alighting  in  mid-lake. 
As  the  birds  arose,  the  splashing  of  water  made  by 


128 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


their  running  over  the  surface  to  get  a  start,  the  beat¬ 
ing  of  wings,  and  the  “kronk-kronk”  of  their  calls 
created  an  indescribable  din,  while  the  charm  of  the 
marvellously  beautiful  sight  was  tempered  by  the 
odours  that  arose  from  the  putrid  waters  churned 
by  the  activity  of  the  birds. 

The  flamingos  that  had  settled  in  mid-lake  soon 
began  to  drift  back  in  our  direction  and  we  hurriedly 
constructed  a  rude  blind  of  green  boughs  on  the  shore. 
Here  I  awaited  their  return,  camera  in  position,  and 
within  half  an  hour  was  surrounded  by  acres  of  the 
beautiful  creatures.  The  greater  number  of  the  birds 
proved  to  be  of  the  small,  more  brilliantly  coloured 
species  of  African  flamingo  ( Phoenicopterus  minor), 
although  a  few  of  the  larger  species  ( Phoenicopterus 
roseus )  were  in  small  isolated  flocks  or  scattered  here 
and  there  among  their  smaller  relatives.  Evidently 
flamingos  spend  the  entire  year  at  Lake  Hannington. 
So  greatly  did  they  interest  us  on  this  January  visit 
that  we  returned  in  May  hoping  to  find  them  nesting, 
but  we  were  some  six  weeks  too  late.  The  young  birds 
in  their  gray  plumage  were  abundant  and  traces  of  the 
nests  were  to  be  seen  at  the  north  end  of  the  lake. 

One  soon  forgets  about  snakes  in  Africa  although 
there  are  many  poisonous  species.  In  my  experience 
of  more  than  five  years  in  the  jungles,  wandering 
about  with  from  one  hundred  to  two  hundred  and 
fifty  semi-naked,  barefoot  men,  I  have  never  had 
to  deal  with  a  snake  bite.  On  my  last  journey  to  the 
Kivu  I  had  glimpses  of  two  snakes  all  told. 


ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


129 

Nor  have  I  been  pestered  by  mosquitoes.  In  all 
my  African  experience  I  have  never  had  as  many 
mosquitoes  to  contend  with  as  I  have  had  in  a  single 
night  in  my  apartment  on  Central  Park  West.  How¬ 
ever,  one  avoids  a  single  African  mosquito  as  one 
would  avoid  the  pest,  because  that  is  just  what  he 
may  turn  out  to  be.  For  six  months  at  a  time  my 
mosquito  nets  have  remained  in  the  duffle  bags. 

In  the  game  country  there  are  millions  of  ticks, 
but  as  a  rule  their  worst  offence  is  simply  to  crawl 
over  one.  The  spirillum  tick  must  be  avoided.  I 
have  never  seen  one  but  I  have  been  incapacitated 
and  brought  near  the  door  of  death  as  a  result  of  his 
work.  And  when  the  jigger  decides  to  establish  a 
colony  under  one's  toenails  he  cannot  be  too  quickly 
nor  too  carefully  dispossessed. 

There  are  other  pests  besides  insects,  snakes,  and 
drouth  to  be  guarded  against  in  Africa.  One  of  these 
is  fire.  In  making  a  camp,  it  is  always  wise  to  burn 
off  the  ground  about  the  tents  for  the  sake  of  pro¬ 
tection.  The  most  strenuous  fight  I  ever  had  to 
make  against  a  grass  fire  took  place  in  Uganda  the 
day  that  I  killed  the  big  bull  elephant  now  in  the 
Milwaukee  Public  Museum.  We  had  been  working 
hard  from  eleven  o’clock  in  the  morning  until  early 
evening.  Meanwhile,  camp  had  been  made  close  to 
our  work  in  a  country  of  bush  and  high  grass.  Im¬ 
mediately  surrounding  our  camp  the  grass  was  five 
feet  high  and  very  dense  and  dry.  To  the  east  of  us 
was  a  great  jungle  of  elephant  grass,  a  sort  of  cane 
growing  to  a  height  of  ten  or  fifteen  feet.  For  two 


\ 


i3o  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

or  three  hours  I  was  conscious  of  a  great  fire  to  the 
east,  but  there  was  little  wind  and  it  travelled  slowly. 
Whenever  it  came  to  one  of  the  fields  of  elephant 
grass  the  roaring  and  crackling  was  quite  appalling, 
and  when  it  finally  reached  the  clump  of  grass  nearest 
our  camp  we  realized  that  we  would  probably  have 
to  make  a  fight.  There  was  no  time  to  backfire  and  so 
we  tried  the  next  best  thing.  About  twenty-five  yards 
from  the  tents  we  started  to  make  a  trail  stretching 
for  a  hundred  yards  across  the  path  of  the  fire.  This 
was  done  by  bending  the  grass  down  on  both  sides, 
leaving  a  path  along  which  we  could  move  freely. 
Then  the  job  was  to  stop  the  fire  at  the  parting  of  the 
grass.  A  hundred  men,  each  provided  with  an  arm¬ 
ful  of  green  branches,  scattered  along  this  thin  line 
to  beat  the  fire  out  as  it  reached  the  division.  We 
had  a  terrific  fight.  In  several  places  the  fire  jumped 
across  the  trail,  but  each  time  enough  men  concen¬ 
trated  at  that  point  to  kill  it  before  it  got  an  over¬ 
powering  foothold.  It  was  hot,  smoky,  desperate 
work.  When  it  was  ended,  the  tents  were  safe  al¬ 
though  the  men  were  thoroughly  done  up. 

It  was  one  of  these  grass  fires,  although  by  no  means 
such  a  persistent  one,  that  threatened  Roosevelt’s 
camp  the  night  after  our  elephant  hunt  on  the  Uasin 

Gishu  Plateau. 


CHAPTER  YII 


BILL 

IE  IS  a  little  Kikuyu  thirteen  years  old  who 
has  attached  himself  to  our  safari ;  a  useful 
little  beggar,  always  finds  something  to 
busy  himself  with;  better  take  him  with  you.  We 
call  him  Bill.  “Come  here,  Bill.>> 

Bill  came  up — a  little,  naked,  thirteen-year-old 
“Kuke”  with  great  black  eyes.  The  eyes  did  it. 
Mrs.  Akeley  decided  that  Bill  should  go  with  us.  He 
was  given  a  khaki  suit  two  sizes  too  big  for  him  which 
made  the  black  eyes  sparkle.  He  was  made  the 
assistant  of  Alii,  Mrs.  Akeley’s  tent  boy,  and  his 
training  as  tent  boy  began. 

In  six  months  Bill  had  become  a  full-fledged  tent 
boy,  with  plenty  of  time  always  at  his  disposal  to 
mix  up  with  almost  everything  going  on  in  camp.  I 
think  of  him  now,  after  three  expeditions  in  which 
he  has  been  with  me,  as  the  best  tent  boy,  the  best 
gun-bearer,  the  best  tracker,  and  the  best  headman 
that  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  know — a  man  who,  I 
know,  would  go  into  practically  certain  death  to 
serve  me.  If  I  were  starting  out  on  an  expedition 
among  unknown  people  in  Africa  I  would  rather  have 
Bill  as  a  headman  and  as  a  counselor  in  dealing  with 


J32  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

the  savages,  even  though  they  were  people  of  whom 
Bill  knew  nothing,  than  any  one  I  know  of. 

During  that  first  six  months’  apprenticeship  Bill 
was  always  busy.  When  there  was  nothing  to  do 
about  camp  he  would  borrow  some  of  Heller  s  traps 
and  set  them  for  jackals,  or  he  would  be  poking  about 
the  bush  looking  for  lizards  or  snakes  that  we  might 
■yyjuir  for  the  collections.  IVIonths  passed,  and  Bill 
was  an  inconspicuous  member  of  our  little  army  of 
followers.  We  were  camped  on  the  top  of  the 
Aberdare;  Cuninghame  and  I  were  returning  from  a 
fruitless  four  days  on  elephant  trails.  As  we  neared 
camp  we  saw  Mrs.  Akeley  come  out  on  the  road  ahead 
of  us,  with  Alii  acting  as  gun-bearer.  An  elephant 
had  passed  a  few  hundred  yards  from  camp  and  she 
had  come  out  to  the  road  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  shot 
as  it  crossed.  A  little  farther  on  toward  camp  we  met 
Bill,  stripped  to  the  waist,  carrying  my  8  mm.  rifle 
and  a  pocket  of  6  mm.  cartridges.  If  there  was 
anything  doing  Bill  had  to  be  in  it. 

A  few  weeks  later  on,  our  wanderings  took  us  into 
Kikuyu  country  and  near  to  Bill’s  native  village. 
He  sent  for  his  “mamma,”  to  whom  he  wanted  to 
give  some  of  his  earnings.  So  his  mother  came  to 
camp  and  Bill  introduced  her.  He  led  me  out  to 
where  she  was  leaning  against  a  rock,  and  pointing 
to  her  said,  “mamma.”  She  was  a  young  shenzie 
woman  of  the  usual  type,  dressed  in  a  leather  skirt 
and  bead  and  brass  ornaments. 

One  day  Bill  had  the  sulks  and  was  scolded  for  not 
doing  something  that  he  had  been  told  to  do.  He 


BILL 


133 

said  he  knew  his  work  and  didn’t  have  to  be  told  what 
to  do.  It  made  him  perfectly  furious  to  be  continu¬ 
ally  told  to  do  things  which  he  knew  to  be  a  part  of 
his  duties.  Nor  would  he  shirk  his  duties.  If  he 
failed  to  do  things  at  the  proper  time,  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten  it  was  because  someone  had  been  telling 
him  to  do  the  things  and  it  had  made  him  ugly.  This 
characteristic  is  as  pronounced  now  as  ever,  and  has 
been  the  cause  of  the  most  of  poor  Bill’s  troubles. 

At  last  our  work  was  over  and  we  returned  to 
Nairobi  to  prepare  for  our  departure  from  Africa. 
As  soon  as  we  arrived  Bill  demanded  his  pay.  We 
wanted  him  to  stay  until  we  were  ready  to  leave 
Nairobi,  but  no,  he  wanted  to  be  free  to  spend  his 
money;  so  he  left  us  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  in  doing 
so  he  sacrificed  his  backsheesh .  He  promptly  spent 
all  his  money  for  clothes,  having  them  made  to  order 
by  the  Indian  traders,  but  within  two  weeks  he  had 
lost  all  the  clothes  in  gambling.  Thus  ended  Bill’s 
first  year’s  career  as  a  tent  boy. 

Four  years  later  we  returned  to  East  Africa. 
Several  months  previously.  Alii  and  Bill  had  been 
engaged  for  the  Roosevelt  Expedition,  but  before  we 
reached  there  Bill  had  disgraced  himself,  and  had  been 
turned  out  and  black-listed.  But  knowing  some¬ 
thing  of  the  probable  conditions  which  had  contrib¬ 
uted  to  his  downfall,  we  were  glad  to  get  him  and 
he  was  glad  to  come.  There  were  four  of  our  party, 
and  most  of  the  other  tent  boys  and  the  kitchen  con¬ 
tingent  were  Swahilis,  so  we  rather  expected  that 
Bill  would  have  trouble.  But  his  first  real  trouble 


134 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

came  of  an  exaggerated  sense  of  loyalty  to  me,  or  at 
least  that  was  his  excuse.  During  my  absence  from 
camp  one  of  my  companions  asked  Bill  for  some  sup¬ 
plies  from  a  box  to  which  Bill  had  the  keys,  but  he 
refused  to  get  them,  saying  that  he  must  have  an 
order  from  his  own  Bwana.  It  was  cheek,  and  he 
had  to  be  punished;  the  punishment  was  not  severe, 
but  coming  from  me  it  went  hard  with  him  and  I  had 
to  give  him  a  fatherly  talk  to  prevent  his  running 
away.  Whenever  we  reached  a  boma ,  or  Nairobi,  we 
expected  Bill  to  have  a  grouch.  His  irresistible  im¬ 
pulse  to  spend  money  and  the  desire  to  keep  it,  too, 
upset  him,  and  going  to  Nairobi  usually  meant  that 
he  would  be  paid  in  full  and  discharged;  but  the  next 
day  he  would  turn  up  and  continue  to  do  his  work 
with  a  long  face  until  he  would  manage  to  screw  up 
courage  to  ask  if  the  Bwana  would  take  him  on  the 
next  trip,  and  then  he  would  be  all  grins  and  the 
troubles  were  over. 

Sometimes  in  hunting  dangerous  game  I  would 
take  him  along  as  extra  gun-bearer  and  usually  on 
these  occasions  his  marvellous  keenness  of  eye  and 
ability  to  track  would  result  in  the  regular  gun- 
bearers  being  relegated  to  the  rear.  One  time  while 
hunting  elephants  in  Uganda  I  let  him  go  with  me. 
We  had  finished  inspecting  a  small  herd,  decided 
there  was  nothing  in  it  that  I  wanted,  and  were  going 
back  to  take  up  the  trail  of  another  lot  in  a  section 
where  the  country  was  all  trodden  down  by  the 
going  and  coming  of  numerous  herds.  As  we  went 
along  Bill  detected  the  spoor  of  two  big  bulls  and  1 


BILL 


135 

told  him  to  follow  it,  not  thinking  for  a  moment  that 
he  would  be  able  to  hold  it  in  the  maze  of  herd  tracks. 
On  our  last  visit  to  town  he  had  invested  in  a  stiff 
brim  straw  hat  and  a  cane,  and  he  looked  like  any¬ 
thing  but  an  elephant  tracker  as  he  walked  jauntily 
along  with  his  straw  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head  and 
swinging  his  cane  like  a  dandy.  For  five  hours  he 
followed  that  trail  with  the  utmost  nonchalance,  in 
places  where  it  would  have  given  the  professional 
tracker  the  greatest  trouble  and  where  nine  out  of 
ten  would  have  lost  it.  At  last,  as  it  led  us  through 
a  dense  bush,  Bill  suddenly  stopped  and  held  up  his 
cane  as  a  signal  for  caution;  as  I  drew  up  to  him  there 
were  two  old  bulls  not  twenty  feet  from  us.  When 
one  of  them  was  dead  and  the  other  gone  I  felt  much 
more  comfortable  than  when  I  first  realized  the  situa¬ 
tion  into  which  we  had  blundered. 

But  the  time  that  Bill  earned  our  everlasting  grati¬ 
tude  and  immunity  from  punishment  for  present 
misdeeds  was  when  I  was  smashed  up  by  the  elephant 
on  Mt.  Kenia.  He  was  with  Mrs.  Akeley  at  the  base 
camp  when  the  news  reached  her  at  dusk,  and  it  was 
past  midnight  when  she  was  ready  to  come  to  me 
through  that  awful  twenty  miles  of  forest  and  jungle 
in  the  blackness  of  a  drenching  rain.  While  headman 
and  askaris  were  helpless,  stupidly  sharing  the  fear  and 
dread  of  the  forest  at  night  which  paralyzed  the  port¬ 
ers  and  guides,  it  was  Bill  with  a  big  stick  who  put 
them  in  motion  and  literally  drove  them  ahead  of 
Mrs.  Akeley  to  me.  And  then  it  was  he  who  directed 
the  cutting  of  the  road  out  of  the  forest  for  the  pas* 


136  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

sage  of  my  stretcher,  enlisting  the  services  of  a  chief 
with  his  people  to  cut  a  road  in  from  the  shambas 
to  meet  our  porters  who  were  working  outward. 

One  day  when  I  was  convalescing,  Bill  called  on  a 
porter  to  perform  some  service  about  my  tent.  The 
porter  refused  to  come.  Bill  went  out  to  “  interview ” 
him.  The  porter  was  twice  as  large  as  Bill — there 
was  a  little  scuffle,  and  Bill  came  right  back  and  did 
the  work  himself.  Then  he  went  over  to  the  doctor’s 
tent  and  conducted  him  out  to  where  he  had  left  the 
porter.  It  took  the  doctor  a  half  hour  to  bring  the 
porter  to.  Then  the  other  porters  came  up  in  a  body 
and  said  that  Bill  must  go  or  they  would  all  go.  I 
told  them  that  the  first  of  their  number  who  com¬ 
plained  of  Bill  or  refused  to  do  his  bidding  would  get 
“twenty-five.”  The  average  black  boy  would  have 
taken  advantage  of  the  situation  created  by  these 
victories — not  so  with  Bill.  After  that,  whenever  he 
had  occasion  to  pass  an  order  to  a  porter,  he  always 
did  it  through  the  headman.  ^ 

Perhaps  I  should  explain  at  this  point  just  what 
the  normal  personnel  of  a  safari  in  British  East  Africa 
is.  First,  there  is  the  headman,  who  is  supposed  to 
be  in  charge  of  the  whole  show,  excepting  the  gun- 
bearers  and  tent  boys,  who  are  the  personal  servants 
and  under  the  immediate  direction  of  their  masters. 
The  askaris  are  soldiers  who  are  armed  and  whose 
duties  consist  of  the  guarding  of  the  camp  at  night 
and  looking  after  the  porters  on  the  march.  There  is 
one  askari  to  from  ten  to  twenty  porters.  The  cook 
and  his  assistant  or  assistants*  the  number  of  whom  is 


BILL 


137 

determined  by  the  size  of  the  party,  are  important 
v members  of  the  safari .  Then  there  are  tent  boys,  one 
to  each  member  of  the  party,  whose  duty  is  to  look  af¬ 
ter  the  tents  and  clothing,  and  to  serve  their  masters 
or  mistresses  at  table.  The  syces  are  pony  boys, 
whose  duties  are  to  look  after  the  horses  and  equip¬ 
ment.  In  addition  to  those  already  named  come  the 
rank  and  file  of  porters  whose  duties  are  manifold, 
carrying  loads  on  the  march,  gathering  wood  under 
the  direction  of  the  askaris  and  the  cook,  bringing  in 
game,  beating  for  lions,  setting  up  the  tents  under  the 
direction  of  the  tent  boys,  and  so  forth. 

I  do  not  know  of  any  case  where  Bill's  character 
was  better  demonstrated  than  at  the  time  when  I 
was  convalescent  after  the  elephant  smashed  me  up. 
I  was  able  to  walk  about,  but  had  to  have  someone 
carry  a  chair  along  so  that  I  could  sit  down  to  rest. 
A  little  distance  away  from  camp,  at  the  edge  of  the 
Kenia  forest,  there  was  a  great  swampy  place  sur¬ 
rounded  on  three  sides  by  a  high  ridge  and  on  the 
fourth  side  by  the  forest.  One  day  the  natives  came 
in  and  reported  that  an  old  bull  elephant  had  come 
out  into  this  swampy  place,  and  they  said  that  he 
would  probably  stay  in  there  for  a  week  or  ten  days. 
These  old  lone  bulls  come  out  into  one  of  these  feeding 
grounds,  where  they  are  not  likely  to  be  disturbed  by 
their  companions,  and  for  a  time  dimply  loaf  around 
and  feed  and  then  go  away  again.  We  started  out 
one  morning  to  look  this  one  up,  and  went  to  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  where  the  boys  showed  us  his  trail. 
We  followed  it,  and  found  that  it  was  joined  by  the 


138  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

fresh  trail  of  a  second  elephant.  I  started  to  walk 
down  the  trail,  but  found  that  I  was  not  in  physical 
condition  to  go  on,  so  I  sent  the  boys  up  and  around 
the  ridge  of  this  crater-like  depression,  instructing 
them  to  throw  stones  into  the  bush  as  they  went 
along.  They  had  not  gone  far  when  one  of  the  ele¬ 
phants  was  beaten  out  and  started  to  go  across  the 
bottom  of  the  crater,  over  open  ground.  He  was 
probably  three  hundred  yards  away  from  me,  and 
as  he  approached  the  forest  on  the  other  side  it  oc¬ 
curred  to  me  that  I  might  get  him  rattled  by  shooting 
into  the  trees  ahead  of  him.  So  I  shot — the  bullets 
crashed  through  the  trees  in  front  and  frightened  him, 
and  he  wheeled  around  and  started  back.  I  had 
hoped  that  he  would  come  my  way,  but  he  did  not. 
In  the  intense  excitement  I  shot  at  him  three  or  four 
times.  A  little  puff  of  dust  from  his  dry  hide  told 
me  the  story  of  my  aim,  and  while  one  or  two  of  the 
bullets  apparently  struck  in  the  right  place,  it  was 
evident  that  there  was  not  sufficient  penetration  to 
get  results. 

The  whole  thing  was  very  foolish,  but  since  I  had 
wounded  him  it  was  absolutely  essential  that  I  finish 
the  job.  The  elephant  turned  again  and  went  on 
across  to  the  opposite  side,  and  now  I  had  to  get  on 
his  trail  and  follow  him.  From  a  hundred  yards 
away  he  got  our  wind  momentarily,  and  threatened 
to  charge.  Another  shot  turned  him,  and  he  disap¬ 
peared  into  the  bush.  An  hour  later  I  had  a  good 
view  of  him  at  about  seventy-five  yards  and  under 
conditions  where  I  normally  could  have  made  an  ap- 


BILL 


139 

proach  to  within  a  distance  from  which  I  might  have 
dropped  him  in  his  tracks.  But  at  this  point  I  was  so 
exhausted  that  I  took  a  final  shot  at  him  from  where 
I  stood,  seventy-five  yards  away.  He  went  down, 
but  got  to  his  feet  again  and  went  into  the  bush.  The 
boys  helped  me  back  into  camp.  I  felt  perfectly  cer¬ 
tain  that  we  would  find  him  dead  in  the  morning.  The 
whole  thing  had  been  stupid  and  unsportsmanlike. 

The  next  morning,  with  a  few  of  the  boys,  I  went 
back  and  took  up  his  trail;  but  much  to  my  disap¬ 
pointment  and  surprise  I  found  that  he  and  his  com¬ 
panion  had  kept  right  on  into  the  forest  and  were 
apparently  going  strong,  I  knew  that  he  was  mor¬ 
tally  wounded,  and  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
be  followed  and  finished  off.  It  was  too  big  a  job 
for  me  in  my  condition,  so  it  was  up  to  Bill.  I  gave 
Bill  one  of  my  gun-bearers  and  each  of  them  a  heavy 
470  cordite  rifle,  with  instructions  to  stick  to  the  trail 
until  they  found  the  elephant.  They  were  not  to 
shoot  except  in  emergency.  When  the  elephant  was 
found,  one  of  them  was  to  remain  with  it  while  the 
other  came  back  to  report. 

I  went  back  to  camp  and  waited.  The  boys  had 
no  supply  of  food  with  them  and  I  had  no  idea  but 
that  they  would  be  back  in  camp  before  night,  but 
it  was  not  until  midnight  of  the  second  day  that  Bill 
came  to  my  tent,  awakened  me,  and  told  his  story. 
They  had  followed  the  elephant  without  ever  coming 
up  with  him  except  that  at  one  time  they  heard  him 
ahead  of  them;  and  they  had  finally  decided  it  was 
best  to  come  back  to  get  food  and  instructions.  Bill 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


140 

was  just  about  exhausted;  and  the  gun-bearer,  a  big 
husky  fellow,  had  fallen  by  the  wayside.  Bill  had 
left  him  some  five  miles  back  in  the  forest  on  the  trail. 
Evidently  Bill  considered  my  elephant  guns  of  more 
importance  than  one  black  gun  boy,  as,  for  fear  that 
something  would  happen  to  the  rifles,  he  had  lugged 
both  of  the  heavy  guns  into  camp,  leaving  the  boy 
with  nothing  but  his  knife  with  which  to  protect  him¬ 
self.  I  felt,  however,  that  there  was  little  danger 
to  the  gun  boy  except  from  exposure,  and  against 
that  he  no  doubt  had  built  a  fire.  I  could  think  of 
nothing  to  do  until  daylight.  A  half  hour  later  some 
commotion  in  camp  caused  me  to  send  for  the  head¬ 
man,  but  Bill  came  instead.  I  asked  him  what  was 
doing,  and  he  said  that  he  had  had  trouble  in  getting 
some  of  the  boys  to  go  with  him.  “Go  where ?” 
I  asked.  He  replied  that  he  was  going  back  to  the 
gun  boy  with  food.  Then  I  came  to.  I  sent  for  the 
headman  and  askaris ,  told  Bill  to  describe  to  them 
the  gun  boy's  location,  and  told  them  they  were  to 
go  to  his  relief,  and  Bill  that  he  was  to  go  to  bed. 
This  he  finally  did,  after  using  up  what  remaining 
strength  he  had  in  protest.  The  elephant  was  not 
located. 

About  a  year  and  a  half  later,  after  we  had  returned 
to  the  States,  Bill  went  back  into  his  home  country 
and  began  to  search  for  the  wounded  elephant.  He 
must  have  done  some  very  clever  detective  work,  for 
he  finally  located  the  native  who  had  found  the  dead 
elephant.  This  native  had  secured  the  tusks,  and 
had  sold  one  of  them  to  an  Indian  trader;  but  the 


BILL 


141 

second  was  still  in  his  possession.  According  to  the 
laws  of  the  land  he  should  have  turned  in  the  two 
tusks  to  the  government  officials,  who  would  have 
paid  him  a  nominal  price  for  the  ivory,  and  I,  having 
filed  a  claim  with  the  Government,  would  have  come 
into  possession  of  the  tusks;  but  the  native  had 
evidently  thought  that  he  could  get  more  out  of  them 
by  selling  them  one  at  a  time,  and  had  taken  a  chance. 
But  he  made  a  mistake  in  leaving  Bill  out  of  his  cal¬ 
culations.  Bill  followed  up  the  case  with  the  final 
result  that  the  remaining  tusk  was  taken  and  sent 
to  me,  and  the  Government  confiscated  a  certain 
number  of  cattle  belonging  to  the  native  as  penalty 
for  the  one  he  had  sold.  Thus,  to  both  Bill  and  me, 
the  final  results  from  that  particular  elephant  hunt 
were  satisfactory. 

One  time  in  Uganda  I  was  using  Bill  as  a  gun-bearer 
in  preference  to  the  regular  gun-bearers,  because  I 
had  by  that  time  realized  that  Bill  was  the  best 
tracker  as  well  as  the  most  keen  and  alert  hunter, 
black  or  white,  that  I  had  ever  known.  We  had 
followed  a  small  band  of  elephants  into  some  dense 
forest,  and  for  a  long  time  had  been  crouching  be¬ 
neath  some  undergrowth  where  we  could  get  an 
occasional  glimpse  of  the  elephants’  legs,  but  nothing 
more.  They  had  been  quietly  feeding  during  this 
time,  but  at  last  they  moved  away  and  crossed  a  trail 
down  which  we  had  a  vista  of  a  hundred  yards  or  so. 
When  we  thought  the  last  one  had  passed,  we  went 
down  this  trail  quickly  and  quietly  to  the  point  where 
they  had  crossed,  and  there  we  stopped,  listening 


X42  in  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

intently  in  an  attempt  to  locate  them.  At  first  I 
thought  they  had  gone  out  of  hearing,  when  I  sud¬ 
denly  discovered  the  rear  elevation  of  a  bull  not  more 
than  twenty  feet  from  us.  He  was  motionless.  We 
had  come  in  so  quietly  that  he  had  not  heard  us,  and 
then  I  did  not  dare  move  for  fear  of  attracting  his 
attention.  I  craned  my  neck  in  an  effort  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  his  tusks,  and  in  doing  this  I  became 
conscious  of  a  cow  standing  beside  the  bull  and 
looking  straight  at  us.  Bill  was  about  five  feet  back 
and  to  one  side  of  me.  I  stood  motionless,  without 
swinging  my  gun  in  the  cow’s  direction,  but  waited 
for  her  to  make  the  move.  I  doubt  whether  she  saw^ 
us  distinctly.  The  bull  began  to  move  away  and  the 
cow,  in  turning  to  follow,  moved  a  pace  more  or  less 
in  my  direction.  I  was  perfectly  certain  that  she  was 
going  to  follow  the  bull,  and  to  Bill  there  was  no  in¬ 
dication  that  I  had  seen  her.  Bill  thought  she  was 
coming  at  me,  raised  his  gun,  and  fired  point  blank 
into  the  cow’s  face.  The  elephants  bolted.  I 
wheeled  and  slapped  Bill,  because  he  had  broken  one 
of  the  rules  of  the  game,  which  is  that  a  black  boy 
must  never  shoot  without  orders  unless  his  master  is 
down  and  at  the  mercy  of  a  beast.  Of  course  it  did 
not  take  long  for  me  to  come  to  a  realization  that 
Bill’s  shooting  was  done  in  perfectly  good  faith  be¬ 
cause  he  thought  that  I  had  not  seen  the  cow,  and  he 
also  thought  that  she  was  coming  straight  at  me. 
Bill’s  heart  was  broken  and  my  apologies  were  forth-' 
coming  and  were  as  humble  as  the  dignity  of  a  white 

man  would  permit. 


BILL 


143 

The  next  day  Bill  came  to  me  and  said  that  he 
wanted  to  quit  and  go  back  to  Nairobi.  I  satisfied 
myself  that  it  was  not  the  incident  of  the  day  before 
that  had  brought  him  to  this  frame  of  mind,  but  he 
admitted  that  he  was  scared  and  tired.  In  other 
words,  the  pace  had  been  too  hot  for  him.  Ijt  was  a 
case  of  nerves,  and  he  was  worn  out.  I  persuaded 
him  to  stay,  telling  him  that  he  need  not  go  with  me 
on  elephant  trails  for  a  week.  I  would  take  the  other 
boys  and  he  could  just  stay  in  camp  to  loaf  and  rest. 
But  the  next  morning,  when  I  was  preparing  to  go, 
Bill  was  on  the  job  and  would  not  be  left  behind.  He 
told  Mrs.  Akeley  that  he  was  not  afraid  for  himself 
but  was  afraid  for  his  Bwana,  So  we  continued  our 
elephant  work  at  an  easier  pace  than  before. 

•  The  Wakikuyus  (to  give  them  their  full  name) 
are  an  agricultural  people,  and  one  does  not  normally 
look  among  them  for  gun-bearers  or  hunters.  They 
are  a  comparatively  mild  and  gentle  race,  and  thus 
Bill  was  quite  an  exceptional  individual.  Bill  was 
always  on  the  job,  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  two  occa¬ 
sions  of  which  I  have  told,  I  would  be  able  to  say  that 
he  is  one  human  being  whom  I  have  never  seen  tired. 

Bill  never  was  and  never  will  be  completely  tamed. 
His  loyalty  to  the  master  in  whom  he  believes  and 
for  whom  he  has  an  affection  is  unbounded,  and  I 
firmly  believe  that  Bill  would  go  into  certain  death 
for  such  a  master.  He  has  an  independence  that 
frequently  gets  him  into  trouble.  He  does  not  like 
to  take  orders  from  any  one  of  his  own  colour.  The 
Somalis  and  the  Swahilis,  associated  with  Bill,  were 


i44  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

constantly  putting  up  jobs  to  get  him  in  bad  with  the 
master  because,  to  these  two  peoples,  the  Wakikuyus 
are  a  very  inferior  race.  There  is  no  doubt  in  my 
mind  that  Bill’s  disgrace  with  the  Roosevelt  Expedi¬ 
tion  was  due  entirely  to  the  connivance  of  the  Swahilis 
and  the  Somalis. 

When  we  had  finished  with  our  lion-spearing  ex¬ 
pedition  on  the  Uasin  Gishu  Plateau,  numerous  things 
had  been  stolen,  and  the  Somalis  insisted  that  Bill 
was  the  guilty  party.  A  white  man  whom  I  had 
employed  to  take  charge  of  the  Nandi  spearmen  was 
not  fond  of  Bill,  and  one  day  he  ordered  him  to  open 
his  bag  for  inspection.  Bill  refused,  and  when  the 
case  was  brought  to  me  and  I  investigated  it,  Bill  was 
so  rebellious  that  we  found  it  necessary  to  take  him 
in  hand  for  mild  punishment.  He  ran  from  camp  and 
I  sent  an  askari  after  him.  The  askari  overtook  him, 
but  he  did  not  bring  him  back,  because  Bill  had  a 
long  knife  and  he  was  prepared  to  use  it  to  a  finish. 
I  realized  that  I  would  have  to  see  it  through,  al> 
though  my  sympathies  were  all  with  Bill.  We  were 
near  a  government  boma ,  and  I  turned  my  case  over 
to  the  officials.  Bill  was  arrested,  put  in  jail,  and  we 
went  on  without  him. 

Some  weeks  later  we  were  making  the  ascent  of 
Mt.  Kenia,  back  in  Bill’s  old  country,  where  Bill’s 
services  had  been  almost  invaluable;  and  I  continually 
felt  the  need  and  frequently  an  actual  longing  for 
Bill.  We  were  up  about  ten  thousand  feet  on  Kenia, 
following  an  elephant  trail.  We  came  to  an  elephant 
pit  in  which  some  animal  had  been  trapped  and  made 


BILL 


145 


its  escape.  I  was  busy  reading  the  story,  which  was 
very  simple.  A  giant  hog  had  got  into  the  pit  and 
had  worked  with  his  tusks  and  feet  at  the  sides  of  his 
prison  until  he  had  raised  the  bottom  to  a  point  which 
enabled  him  to  scramble  out  and  make  his  escape. 
I  had  been  longing  for  Bill  all  morning  because  of 
certain  troubles  we  were  having  with  our  boys.  Just 
as  we  were  about  to  leave  the  pit  to  continue  our 
march  up  the  mountain  side  I  heard  a  voice  behind 
me: 

“ fambo ,  Bwana .”  [“Good  morning,  Master.”] 

I  recognized  Bill's  voice.  I  turned  and  saw  fne 
most  disreputable  Bill  that  I  had  ever  seen.  His 
clothing  was  worn  to  shreds,  his  shoes  were  practically 
all  gone,  and  the  only  thing  about  him  that  was  per¬ 
fectly  all  right  was  his  grim  I  wanted  to  hug  him. 
1  never  knew  just  what  happened  at  the  boma  except 
that  after  two  weeks  Bill  got  out,  took  up  our  trail, 
and  followed  us  in  all  of  our  meanderings,  and  finally 
came  up  with  us  at  the  elephant  pit  in  the  gloomy 
bamboo  forest.  He  had  probably  travelled  a  couple 
of  hundred  miles  in  overtaking  us. 

Bill's  training  as  a  tent  boy,  as  I  have  said,  was 
under  Alii.  Alii  was  a  Swahili,  and  he  was  not  only 
one  of  the  most  efficient  tent  boys  and  all-around  men 
that  we  ever  had  in  Africa,  but  he  was  especially 
valuable  on  safari  because  of  his  ability  to  entertain 
and  amuse  his  fellow  men  around  the  campfire  at 
night.  Alli's  sense  of  the  dramatic  was  extremely 
keen.  Night  after  night  he  would  stand  in  the 
centre  of  a  circle  of  admirers,  telling  them  stories. 


146  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

We  would,  often  sit  and  watch,  him,  and  we  had  no 
difficulty  in  following  his  story,  though  we  understood, 
at  that  time,  no  Swahili  at  all.  He  might  perhaps  be 
describing  to  his  fellows  some  white  man.  He  would 
describe  his  dress  in  detail  his  tie,  his  shirt,  his  cuffs 
— and  we  were  usually  able  to  recognize  the  indi¬ 
vidual  from  the  pantomime  of  his  description.  These 
stories  were  sometimes  made  up  from  the  day’s  ex¬ 
perience.  For  instance,  it  might  be  that  during  the 
day  I  had  had  some  interesting  experience  or  adven¬ 
ture  the  story  of  which  Alii  had  gathered  from  the 
gun  boys  on  their  return,  and  when  the  work  was 
finished  in  the  evening  Alii  would  give  it  to  his  au¬ 
dience  in  full  detail — probably  with  some  additions 
that  furnished  intense  interest — often  eliciting  loud 

applause. 

One  time  we  had  been  on  an  elephant  trail  a  day 
and  a  half.  I  lay  beneath  a  tree,  “  all  in  ”  with  spiril¬ 
lum  fever,  and  felt  that  I  could  go  no  farther  that 
day;  so  I  ordered  Bill  to  make  camp.  I  was  awakened 
from  a  doze  by  Bill,  and  when  I  asked  him  if  my  tent 
was  ready  he  replied  that  it  was  not  but  that  the 
hammock  was.  He  had  improvised  a  hammock  which 
he  ordered  me  to  get  into.  He  had  doubled  up  the 
loads  of  the  few  porters  so  that  four  were  released  to 
carry  me.  Bill  made  the  porters  trot  the  ten  miles 
to  camp.  It  was  nearly  a  month  before  Bill  and  I 
had  recovered  sufficiently  to  take  up  the  elephant 
trails  again. 

Another  time  I  was  down  with  black-water  fever  in 
the  Nairobi  hospital.  I  had  been  booked  to  “go 


BILL 


147 

over  the  Divide”  the  night  before,  but  somehow 
missed  connections.  I  opened  my  eyes  with  my  face 
to  a  window  overlooking  the  porch,  and  there,  looking 
over  the  rail,  was  Bill,  like  a  faithful  dog.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  he  stood  there  for  hours  with  tears  in  his 

* 

eyes  staring  at  his  master.  A  few  days  later  he  was 
allowed  to  come  into  my  room.  He  approached 
the  foot  of  the  bed  with  a  low  “  Jambo ,  Bwana .” 

I  said,  “It  is  all  right,  Bill;  I’ll  soon  be  well.” 

With  a  great  gulping  sob,  he  burst  into  tears  and 
bolted  from  the  room. 

At  an  African  Big  Game  Dinner  in  New  York  ah 
most  ten  years  after  I  left  Bill,  one  of  my  friends  who 
had  just  returned  from  British  East  Africa  came  to 
me  and  announced  that  he  knew  all  about  me  nows 
that  he  had  had  Bill  in  his  safari ,  and  Bill  never  lost 
an  opportunity  to  tell  him  stories  about  Bwana 
Akeley.  So  I  know  that  Bill  is  still  loyal,  and  there 
is  no  one  in  all  Africa  whom  I  am  more  keen  to  see. 
I  missed  him  constantly  on  my  trip  into  the  gorilla 
country,  but  because  I  entered  Africa  from  the  south 
when  I  headed  for  Kivu,  I  was  forced  to  make  up 
my  safari  without  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


SAFARI  HUNTERS 

IN  1905  Nairobi  was  a  town  of  tin  houses,  many 
black  people,  a  few  Hindus,  and  fewer  white  men. 
Before  my  departure  for  the  Athi  Plains,  where 
I  planned  to  begin  my  collections,  I  wished  to  find 
a  place  in  Nairobi  where  I  might  store  material  as 
I  sent  it  in  from  time  to  time  from  the  field.  Around 
and  around  I  wandered  without  finding  any  one  who 
was  able  to  offer  a  helpful  suggestion.  Then  one  day, 
as  I  was  passing  the  open,  door  of  an  unpromising 
galvanized  iron  building,  1  heard  the  encouraging 
clatter  of  a  typewriter  and  lost  no  time  in  investigat¬ 
ing.  At  the  rear  of  a  bare  room  about  thirty  feet 
wide  and  forty  feet  long  was  a  door  on  the  other  side 
of  which  someone  was  plying  the  typewriter  furiously. 
Finally  there  came  forth  from  behind  that  closed 
door  a  blue-eyed,  red-haired  chap,  apparently  ex¬ 
traordinarily  busy  and  much  annoyed  at  being  in¬ 
terrupted.  However,  his  annoyance  vanished  when 
I  told  him  what  I  was  looking  for  and  he  suggested 
that  I  use  a  third  of  the  front  part  of  his  building  at  a 
rental  of  five  rupees — about  a  dollar  and  a  half — per 
month.  This  arrangement  was  eminently  satisfac¬ 
tory  to  me  and  we  closed  the  bargain  at  once. 

148 


SAFARI  HUNTERS 


149 

The  red-haired  man  was  Leslie  J.  Tarlton.  No 
description  of  British  East  Africa  is  complete  without 
some  reference  to  Tarlton,  the  Boer  War  veteran 
now  known  to  hunters  the  world  over  because  of  the 
flourishing  business  he  has  built  up  in  Nairobi — a 
part  of  which  is  equipping  safari  hunters  with  every¬ 
thing  from  food  to  niggers. 

Tarlton  and  his  partner,  Newland,  were  Austra¬ 
lians  who  had  served  in  the  Boer  War.  At  its  close 
they  set  out  to  make  their  fortunes  somewhere  in 
Africa.  Coming  to  Nairobi  with  none  too  much  of 
this  world's  goods  but  plenty  of  ambition  and  en¬ 
thusiasm,  they  were  casting  about  for  an  objective 
when  on  that  morning  in  1905  I  stumbled  upon  Tarl- 
ton's  iron  house.  The  safari  business  into  which 
they  fell  that  day  helped  to  make  them  prosperous 
men  until  the  opening  of  the  World  War  in  1914  put 
an  end  to  African  hunting  for  a  time. 

Tarlton  afterward  confessed  to  me  that  the  type¬ 
writer  that  first  attracted  my  attention  would  not 
write  at  all.  Its  only  use  was  to  make  a  noise  when 
a  prospective  client  came  in  sight.  It  was  perhaps 
the  first  propounder  in  Nairobi  of  the  modern  busi¬ 
ness  principle  that  nothing  succeeds  like  success  and 
it  propounded  no  less  diligently  because  Tarlton  had 
not  yet  discovered  what  his  post-war  profession  was 
to  be.  Two  or  three  weeks  after  our  first  meeting, 
when  I  came  in  from  the  plains,  my  safari  laden  with 
collections  to  be  packed  in  brine,  Tarlton  was  much 
on  the  job,  observing  the  process  and  assisting  when¬ 
ever  he  saw  an  opportunity.  Finally  he  asked  why 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


150 

he  could  not  learn  to  do  such  work  for  me.  His 
proposal  was  that  he  act  as  my  agent,  sending  food 
and  other  supplies  to  us  in  the  field  as  they  were 
required  and  thus  obviating  the  necessity  of  my  com¬ 
ing  in  whenever  a  consignment  of  skins  was  made. 
As  time  is  precious  in  the  field  and  one  does  not  often 
happen  upon  a  helper  of  such  ingenuity  and  diligence, 
we  soon  came  to  terms.  Newland,  Tarlton,  and 
Company  had  acquired  their  first  safari  client.  Later 
on  we  provided  poison  tanks  and  the  other  para¬ 
phernalia  necessary  in  caring  for  trophies  before  they 
can  be  shipped.  Since  that  time,  Newland  and 
Tarlton  have  prepared  skins  and  packed  and  shipped 
them  for  innumerable  safaris . 

When  in  1911  black-water  fever  so  nearly  got  me, 
Tarlton  was  also  thought  to  be  dying  in  the  Nairobi 
hospital,  but  he,  too,  surprised  his  friends  by  his  un¬ 
willingness  to  conform  to  their  expectations,  and, 
while  we  were  both  convalescing,  invited  me  to  his 
house  to  stay.  Those  weeks  in  Nairobi  were  a  great 
time  for  reminiscence.  Tarlton  told  me  a  story 
every  morning  before  breakfast  as  he  whistled  and 
chirped  about  his  dressing.  And  he  always  ended 
with  the  assertion  that  some  day  he  was  going  to 
Write  a  book  on  that  particular  subject.  One  morn¬ 
ing  he  recited  an  anecdote  about  Theodore  Roosevelt, 
adding,  “Some  day  I  am  going  to  write  a  book  on 
‘Ex-Presidents  I  Have  Known  Y ’ 

But  the  story  I  recall  with  the  keenest  relish  re¬ 
counts  the  adventures  of  three  Boer  War  veterans. 
They  had  reached  the  bottom  of  their  luck  after  the- 


SAFARI  HUNTERS 


151 

war,  and  making  a  pot,  went  into  the  Congo  to  poach 
elephants.  They  had  good  shooting  at  first,  then  no 
luck  at  all.  Their  supplies  were  nearly  exhausted. 
But  they  took  heart  one  evening  when  they  came 
upon  elephant  signs  and  carefully  laid  their  plans 
for  the  next  day’s  hunt.  A  last  pot  of  jam  remained 
in  their  commissariat,  and  a  last  pot  of  jam  is  treasured 
by  a  man  in  that  country  as  one  saves  a  last  bottle 
of  champagne.  The  hunter  must  have  fruit,  and 
since  no  wild  fruit  grows  there,  in  the  old  days  his 
supplies  included  large  quantities  of  preserved  fruit 
and  marmalade.  The  three  adventurers  had  saved 
that  last  pot  of  jam  to  be  used  to  celebrate  and  they 
agreed  that  the  time  for  celebration  had  come  pro¬ 
vided  they  brought  home  ivory  on  the  morrow.  Their 
plan  was  that  each  man  should  take  a  different  direc¬ 
tion.  On  his  return  that  night  the  first  hunter’s  trail 
crossed  that  of  one  of  his  companions.  Both  had 
their  ivory  and  they  went  into  camp  together  raven¬ 
ously  hungry,  their  appetites  whetted  by  anticipation, 
to  find  that  the  third  fellow  had  stayed  in  camp  all 
day  and  had  eaten  the  jam  alone  and  unabetted.  His 
companions  saw  red.  The  normal  thing  in  a  frontier 
country  when  a  man  fails  to  play  his  part  is  to  kill 
him.  That  was  their  intention,  but  they  made  up 
their  minds  not  to  be  rash  about  it.  They  decided  to 
take  the  man  into  the  woods  some  morning  and  come 
back  alone.  But  they  thought  better — or  worse — 
of  it  the  next  day. 

The  story  ends  in  Tarlton’s  own  words: 

“Well,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  my  next  book  wil] 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


152 

be  entitled  ‘ Murdered  from  Marmalade/  or  ‘The  Jam 
that  Jerked  him  to  Jesus’.” 

Tarlton  was  the  best  game  shot  I  have  ever  known. 
We  had  gone  out  together  on  one  occasion  to  get 
meat  for  dinner  when  we  sighted  a  Thompson’s  ga¬ 
zelle  at  a  distance  of  225  yards. 

“Let  me  try  my  new  Rigby  on  Tommie/’  Tarlton 
said,  as  he  drew  a  bead  on  the  centre  of  the  gazelle’s 
chest.  When  we  reached  the  antelope  and  found  the 
bullet  one  inch  below  where  he  expected  it,  he  re¬ 
marked  that  he  had  suspected  that  his  rifle  was  not 
accurately  sighted.  This  was  no  conceit  on  his  part. 
He  expected  to  place  his  bullet  exactly  where  he 
wished  and  if  his  gun  was  accurately  sighted  he  rarely 
missed. 

Tarl ton’s  first  lion  was  shot  about  this  time.  The 
lion  had  charged  his  friend  and  with  his  front  paws 
on  the  man’s  shoulder,  and  his  mouth  open,  was 
reaching  for  the  man’s  head  when  Tarlton  pulled 
the  trigger  fifty  yards  away.  The  friend  escaped 
without  a  scratch. 

In  the  conduct  of  his  business  in  Nairobi,  Tarlton 
must  have  come  in  contact  with  all  sorts  of  men,  for 
there  are  sportsmen  and  so-called  sportsmen  of  all 
shades  and  degrees.  There  is  the  man  who  goes  over 
keen  to  get  a  representative  head  of  every  species  of 
game  animal.  No  one  can  take  exception  to  him 
while  there  is  plenty  of  game  left.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  is  the  man  who  hunts  for  record  heads 
and  with  him  I  have  little  patience.  One  man  came 
into  camp  in  Somaliland  who,  although  he  never  shot 


SAFARI  HUNTERS 


153 

unless  he  believed  his  prey  to  be  unusual,  had  killed 
seventy-five  aoul  or  Soemmerring’s  gazelle  before  he 
got  the  record.  Another  class  of  sportsmen  is  made 
up  of  men  who  seem  to  think  that  the  end  to  be  at¬ 
tained  is  to  kill  all  the  law  will  allow  them.  I  have 
seen  a  great  many  of  this  type.  Having  paid  for  a 
license  which  allows  them  to  kill  a  given  number  of 
animals  of  each  species,  they  are  never  content  until 
they  have  killed  the  full  number  regardless  of  their 
needs,  the  size  of  the  horns,  or  anything  else.  In 
the  same  class  with  the  man  who  kills  to  his  limit  is 
the  man  who  has  made  careful  preparation  for  a  hunt 
in  Africa  and  who  goes  there  determined  to  kill  every 
available  species  within  three  months.  One  I  know 
told  his  agents  that  he  would  pay  them  for  the  full 
time  if  they  would  so  arrange  it  that  he  could  get  his 
game  in  three  weeks.  His  idea  is  to  kill  and  get  out 
of  Africa.  He  has  none  of  that  appreciation  of 
Africa’s  charm  and  of  that  real  interest  in  its  animals 
which  create  in  the  true  sportsman  the  desire  to  re¬ 
main  as  long  as  possible. 

There  are  many  professional  hunters  in  British 
East  Africa,  but  perhaps  R.  J.  Cuninghame  is  the 
most  notable  of  the  type.  I  met  him  first  in  1906.  I 
wanted  elephants,  and  everyone  at  Nairobi  agreed 
that  he  was  the  best  elephant  hunter.  So  I  went  to 
him  and  asked  him  to  teach  me  to  hunt  elephants. 
We  had  some  trouble  in  arranging  the  terms  because 
he  did  not  want  any  remuneration  for  helping  an  ex¬ 
pedition  bent  on  scientific  collection.  I  couldn’t  ac¬ 
cept  his  time  gratis  but  have  always  appreciated 


i54  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

this  offer.  Coming  from  a  Scotchman  it  was  quite 
unexpected,  but  it  was  typical  of  Cuninghame’s 
generosity  and  indicative  of  his  interest  in  scientific 
work. 

He  taught  me  as  much  as  one  man  can  learn  from 
another  about  the  game  of  hunting  elephants.  There 
are  some  things  which  one  can  learn  only  through 
experience,  and  in  elephant  hunting  most  of  the 
essentials  must  be  learned  in  that  way.  It  is  easy  and 
natural  to  assume  that  these  huge  beasts  will  always 
be  too  obvious  for  the  unexpected  to  happen.  But 
in  spite  of  their  size  they  are  not  always  easy  to  see, 
for  in  their  own  country  elephants  are  the  colour  of 
the  shadows  and  on  occasion  quite  as  silent.  In  a 
forest  or  rock  environment  one  may  almost  literally 
run  on  to  an  elephant  before  being  aware  of  its  pres¬ 
ence.  The  fact  that  Cuninghame  spent  so  many 
years  hunting  the  great  game  of  Africa  without  ever 
being  mauled  is  evidence  of  his  skill. 

We  went  together  to  the  Aberdare  and  killed  one 
elephant — the  single  tusker  now  in  the  group  in  the 
Field  Museum  in  Chicago.  Then  we  went  down  to 
the  government  station  at  Fort  Hall  and  got  permis¬ 
sion  to  go  up  on  Mt.  Kenia  for  further  elephant 
shooting.  We  spent  six  weeks  on  the  slopes  of  the 
mountain,  I  as  an  amateur  under  Cuninghame’s 
tutelage.  And  he  was  a  real  elephant  hunter.  He 
had  killed  many  elephants,  and  his  long  experience 
had  given  him  a  great  deal  of  that  knowledge  about 
elephants  which  would  enable  him  to  kill  them  with¬ 
out  himself  being  killed.  On  the  other  hand,  Cun- 


SAFARI  HUNTERS  155 

inghame  hunted  elephants  for  ivory,  and  when  a  man 
approaches  a  herd  looking  for  ivory,  he  is  not  likely 
to  see  much  excepting  tusks.  It  is  natural,  therefore, 
that  from  the  ivory  hunters  we  learn  comparatively 
little  of  the  more  intimate  things  that  we  should  like 
to  know  about  the  every-day  life  of  the  elephant. 
The  world  has  no  record  of  the  knowledge  of  wild  life 
that  their  experience  should  have  given  the  ivory 
hunters. 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  camera  hunters  appeal 
to  me  as  being  so  much  more  useful  than  the  gun 
hunters.  They  have  their  pictures  to  show — still 
pictures  and  moving  pictures — and  when  their  game 
is  over  the  animals  are  still  alive  to  play  another  day. 
Moreover,  according  to  any  true  conception  of  sport 
— the  use  of  skill,  daring,  and  endurance  in  overcom¬ 
ing  difficulties — camera  hunting  takes  twice  the  man 
that  gun  hunting  takes.  It  is  fortunate  for  the  ani¬ 
mals  that  camera  hunting  is  becoming  popular. 

The  first  notable  camera  hunter  in  Africa  was 
Edward  North  Buxton,  whose  book,  “Two  African 
Trips, ”  was  published  in  1902.  In  the  preface  to 
this  book  Buxton  writes  that  “it  would  better  be 
described  as  a  picture-book  than  a  volume  of  travels. ” 
This  book  paved  the  way  for  another  in  1905,  “With 
Flashlight  and  Rifle,”  by  C.  G.  Schillings.  Consider¬ 
ing  the  state  of  photography  at  that  time,  Schillings’ 
book  is  a  truly  remarkable  record  of  wild  animal  life. 
In  1910,  A.  Radclyffe  Dugmore  brought  out  his  book, 
“  Camera  Adventures  in  the  African  Wilds.”  In  it 
are  several  pictures  of  lions  taken  by  flashlight  at  night 


i5 6  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

from  a  blind  that  are  photographically  as  good  as 
are  ever  likely  to  be  taken. 

Then  came  the  first  of  the  moving-picture  hunters. 
The  first  success  was  the  film  called  “The  Water 
Hole”  taken  by  Mr.  Lydford,  who  was  tempora¬ 
rily  the  photographer  of  Paul  Rainey’s  expedition. 
Although  it  is  not  photographically  as  good  as  some 
of  the  later  ones,  it  was  a  remarkable  achievement, 
as  all  who  saw  it  will  testify,  especially  when  they 
realize  that  this  was  Mr.  Lydford’s  first  experience  in 
making  motion  pictures  and  that  his  equipment  was 
not  as  good  as  equipment  is  now.  The  film  had  a 
deservedly  popular  run.  Like  all  such  films  it  was 
arranged  for  public  exhibition  by  piecing  together 
parts  taken  on  different  occasions,  so  that  the  au¬ 
dience  gets  in  one  crowded  hour  the  fruits  of  weeks 
and  months  of  painstaking  effort. 

The  next  successful  moving  picture  that  I  know 
of  was  taken  on  the  expedition  of  Lady  Grace  Mc¬ 
Kenzie.  It  has  in  it  the  very  remarkable  piece  of 
film  showing  a  charging  lion.  The  lion  almost  got 
the  operator  and  ended  the  picture  but  fortunately 
both  escaped.  This  reel  has  never  been  extensively 
shown. 

After  this  came  a  film  made  by  James  Barnes  and 
Cherry  Kerton  which  was  shown  with  a  lecture  and 
not,  as  was  Rainey’s,  by  itself.  That  was  nearly  the 
whole  roll  call  until  1922  when  two  men  came  back 
with  films.  The  first  to  reach  New  York  was  a  film 
made  by  H.  A.  Snow.  It  was  shown  at  the  Lyric 
Theatre  and  had  a  great  success  for  which  I  am  person- 


SAFARI  HUNTERS  157 

ally  sorry.  I  look  upon  it  with  more  disapproval  than 
I  can  well  state,  for  I  think  that  many  of  the  titles 
on  the  pictures  are  misleading  and  that  some  of  the 
pictures  fall  into  the  same  category.  All  naturalists 
welcome  the  spread  of  animal  lore  by  motion  pictures 
so  that  a  knowledge  of  true  natural  history  may  be¬ 
come  more  general,  and  there  is  no  better  way  to 
disseminate  such  information.  But  if  in  order  to 
make  a  film  a  more  hair-raising  and  popular  picture, 
the  moving-picture  producer  puts  misleading  titles 
on  the  pictures  and  resorts  to  “fake”  photography, 
the  harm  they  can  do  is  just  as  great  as  the  good 
they  would  otherwise  effect. 

While  most  of  us  who  are  interested  in  true  nature 
photography  were  feeling  somewhat  blue  about  Mr. 
Snow’s  pictures,  Martin  Johnson  came  back  to  New 
York.  We  ume  in  to  see  me  and  I  asked  him  what 
he  was  going  to  do  about  his  titles.  He  was  prompt 
and  positive.  He  was  quite  willing  to  submit  them 
all  to  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History. 
That  was  a  big  decision,  for  the  Museum  would  not 
agree  to  the  kind  of  titles  which  it  was  likely  the 
moving-picture  business  might  desire.  This  might 
militate  heavily  against  his  chance  of  selling  the  pic¬ 
ture,  and  in  Johnson’s  case  selling  the  picture  was  a 
necessity,  for  all  he  had  in  the  world  and  more  besides 
was  invested  in  it.  But  he  stuck  to  his  decision  when 
the  pressure  came  and  his  film  goes  forth,  the  first  ever 
endorsed  by  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  His¬ 
tory,  a  credit  to  him  and  to  the  company  distributing 
it.  I  feel  that  this  is  a  great  step.  With  this  prec- 


1 58  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

edent  I  believe  we  have  begun  a  new  era  in  dissemi¬ 
nating  natural  history  through  motion  pictures  a 
step  in  which  we  can  count  on  the  assistance  of  Mr. 
Will  H.  Hays,  the  president  of  the  Motion  Picture 
Producers  and  Distributors  of  America. 

But  I  must  return  to  the  gun  hunters,  for  I  have  not 
mentioned  the  truest  sportsman  of  them  all 
Theodore  Roosevelt. 

I  first  met  Theodore  Roosevelt  on  my  return  from 
Africa  in  1906.  Previously,  on  his  visit  to  Chicago 
as  Vice-President,  soon  after  I  had  finished  the  deer 
groups  for  the  Field  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
he  called  at  the  Museum  and  was  so  interested  in  the 
groups  that  he  asked  to  see  me,  but  unfortunately 
I  was  not  there.  From  that  time  on  he  was  interested 
in  my  endeavours  and,  learning  that  I  was  on  my  way 
out  of  Africa,  had  asked  Congressman  Mann  to  bring 
me  to  Washington.  Congressman  Mann’s  invita¬ 
tion  was  waiting  for  me  when  I  reached  New  York. 

At  a  dinner  at  the  White  House  during  that  visit 
the  Roosevelt  African  expedition  was  inaugurated. 
Among  the  other  guests  was  a  gentleman  from  Alaska 
who  had  been  describing  the  hunting  in  that  region 
and,  as  we  were  entering  the  dining  room,  the  Presi¬ 
dent  remarked: 

“As  soon  as  I  am  through  with  this  job,  I  am  going 
to  Alaska  for  a  good  hunt.” 

I  shall  never  forget  that  dinner  at  the  White  House. 
I  sat  through  course  after  course  and  did  not  eat  a 
bite,  for  the  President  kept  me  busy  telling  stories  of 
Africa.  There  was  no  time  to  exhaust  my  supply, 


SAFARI  HUNTERS 


159 

but  I  believe  I  said  quite  enough,  for  as  we  were  leav¬ 
ing  the  dining  room,  the  President  turned  to  me  and 
said: 

“As  soon  as  I  am  through  with  this  job,  I  am  going 
to  Africa.,, 

“But,”  interposed  the  hunter  from  the  north, 
“what  is  to  become  of  Alaska?” 

“Alaska  will  have  to  wait,”  Roosevelt  replied  with 
finality.  Plans  for  the  Roosevelt  African  expedition 
went  forward  at  once  and  I  had  something  to  do  with 
their  arrangement. 

At  this  dinner  at  the  White  House  I  retold  to  the 
President  the  story  of  the  sixteen  lions  coming  out  of 
the  cave  on  MacMillan’s  estate.  The  President, 
who  had  been  very  frank  in  his  comments  about  all 
things,  was  having  difficulties  with  the  Senate  at  the 
time.  When  I  had  finished  the  story,  he  addressed 
Congressman  Mann  who  sat  beside  him  at  the  table, 

“Congressman,”  he  said,  “I  wish  I  had  those  six¬ 
teen  lions  to  turn  loose  in  the  Senate.” 

Congressman  Mann  stammered  and  stumbled  a 
bit,  but  finally  drew  himself  together  to  reply. 

“B — but,  Mr.  President,  aren’t — aren’t  you  afraid 
the  lions  might  make  a  mistake?” 

“Not  if  they  stayed  long  enough,”  was  Roosevelt’s 
rejoinder. 

So  he  really  invented  the  idea  which  they  turned 
on  him  later.  When  his  administration  was  over  and 
he  finally  started  for  Africa,  the  cry  of  the  Senate 
crowd  was,  “America  expects  every  lion  to  do  his 
duty.”  A  cartoon  of  the  day  that  I  particularly 


160  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

remember  showed  a  contented  lion  sitting  up  on  his 
haunches  with  drawn  and  bulging  stomach.  Be¬ 
neath,  the  caption  read,  “He  was  a  good  President.” 

I  was  planning  an  expedition  to  collect  materials 
for  an  elephant  group  in  behalf  of  the  American  Mu¬ 
seum  of  Natural  History  about  the  time  that  Roose¬ 
velt  was  arranging  for  his  African  hunt,  and  it  was  a 
fancy  of  mine  that  he  should  shoot  at  least  one  of  the 
elephants  for  my  group.  Upon  my  request  that  he 
should  do  so,  we  planned  to  meet  in  Africa,  but  as  I 
was  delayed  in  getting  over,  it  was  only  by  chance 
that  his  safari  and  mine  met  on  the  Uasin  Gishu 
Plateau. 

One  day  while  on  the  march  I  sighted  a  safari.  I 
was  aware  that  the  Roosevelt  outfit  had  gone  into 
that  region,  but  I  assumed  that  he  had  already  left 
there  for  Uganda.  Nevertheless,  while  we  made 
camp  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  I  sent  a  runner  to  see 
if  it  could  be  the  Roosevelt  safari.  My  runner  met 
a  runner  from  the  other  outfit  and  returned  with  a 
message  from  Roosevelt  himself  which  said  that  if 
we  were  Akeley’s  party  he  would  go  into  camp  at  a 
near-by  swamp.  I  mounted  my  pony  and  went  to 
meet  him  as  he  approached  on  horseback  accom¬ 
panied  by  his  son,  Kermit,  Edmund  Heller,  and  their 
guide,  Tarlton.  We  all  went  back  to  our  camp  for 
luncheon,  where  I  gave  Roosevelt  a  bottle  of  very 
choice  brandy,  a  present  from  Mr.  Oscar  Strauss* 
Mr.  Strauss  had  been  one  of  our  steamer  companions 
across  the  Atlantic  and,  learning  that  I  was  likely  to 
meet  Roosevelt,  he  asked  me  to  take  this  choice 


SAFARI  HUNTERS  161 

brandy  to  him  in  the  jungles.  Roosevelt  accepted  it 
with  much  interest  in  the  accompanying  message  but 
apparently  with  mighty  little  interest  in  the  brandy. 
He  passed  the  bottle  on  to  Cuninghame  and  I  felt  cer¬ 
tain  it  would  eventually  meet  with  just  appreciation. 

We  went  over  to  Roosevelt’s  camp  for  the  night, 
thoroughly  pleased  that  the  hunt  we  had  looked 
forward  to  together,  but  had  been  forced  to  abandon, 
was  to  take  place  after  all.  We  intended  to  get  an 
early  start  the  next  morning,  for  Roosevelt  had  seen 
one  herd  of  elephants  that  day.  We  started  with 
Tarlton  leading.  Suddenly  he  slipped  off  his  horse 
and  directed  that  we  swing  down  side  to  get  off  wind.' 
In  a  clearing  just  ahead  of  us  were  our  elephants,  a 
band  of  eight  cows  and  calves,  enjoying  their  midday 
siesta  and  milling  about  under  the  trees.  We  stood 
hidden  by  a  great  ant-hill  while  I  picked  out  a  cow  I 
thought  would  do  for  my  group  and  pointed  her  out 
to  Roosevelt.  Of  course,  I  assumed  that  he  would 
shoot  her  from  behind  the  ant-hill,  well  out  of  sight 
and  protected.  Instead  he  went  around  the  hill  and 
started  straight  toward  the  elephants,  Kermit  and 
I  following  one  on  either  side  and  in  back  of  him. 
I  had  an  impulse  to  climb  on  Roosevelt’s  shoulder 
and  whisper  that  I  wanted  him  to  shoot  her,  not  to 
take  her  alive.  But  Roosevelt’s  theory  of  meeting 
trouble  was  to  meet  it  halfway  and  he  got  just  about 
halfway  when  the  old  cow  started  across  the  open 
space.  Then  the  other  seven  headed  toward  us. 
Roosevelt  shot.  The  elephant  I  had  selected  went 
part  way  down  and  got  up  again.  On  they  came. 


i62 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


He  shot  again  and  got  her.  However,  there  were 
three  dead  elephants  instead  of  one  when  we  stopped 
them,  for  Kermit  and  I  had  to  shoot,  too,  to  head  off 
the  others.  The  rule  in  elephant  hunting  is  to  get  as 
close  as  you  can  before  shooting,  and  in  whatever 
Roosevelt  was  doing  he  came  out  in  the  open  and  went 
straight  to  the  point. 

Kermit’s  baby  elephant,  now  mounted  in  the  group, 
was  taken  that  day,  also.  After  we  had  turned  them, 
I  saw  a  calf  I  wanted,  asked  Kermit  to  shoot  him, 
and  he  did  so. 

While  Tarlton  and  Kermit  returned  for  the  camp 
equipment  and  the  supplies  required  in  caring  for 
the  elephants.  Colonel  Roosevelt  and  I  sat  together 
resting  in  the  shade  of  an  acacia.  We  were  alone  in 
the  heart  of  Africa  and  he  talked  to  me  of  his  wife 
and  children  at  home.  He  had  not  seen  any  one  from 
the  United  States,  excepting  the  members  of  his  own 
party,  for  a  good  many  months,  while  I  was  fresh  from 
the  States,  fresh  from  Oyster  Bay.  In  those  three 
hours  I  got  a  new  vision  and  a  new  view  of  Theodore 
Roosevelt.  It  was  then  that  I  learned  to  love  him. 
It  was  then  that  I  realized  that  I  could  follow  him 
anywhere;  even  if  I  doubted,  I  would  follow  him  be¬ 
cause  I  knew  his  sincerity,  his  integrity,  and  the  big¬ 
ness  of  the  man.  Since  his  death  those  qualities  that 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  in  Africa  under  the  acacia  tree 
— those  qualities  that  made  Theodore  Roosevelt 
what  he  was — I  have  seen  more  fully  and  completely 
as  they  are  reflected  in  his  children  and  his  children’s 
children. 


SAFARI  HUNTERS  163 

Our  remaining  days  together  were  comparatively 
uneventful.  A  grass  fire,  fortunately  not  one  of  the 
most  persistent,  came  down  upon  our  camp  that 
night  and  all  hands  fell  to  and  fought  it.  Lions  roared 
about  our  camp  all  night,  too.  At  daybreak  the 
Colonel  and  I  went  out  in  our  pyjamas,  hoping  to  find 
them.  We  saw  no  lions,  but  on  our  return,  as  we  ap¬ 
proached  the  carcass  of  one  of  our  elephants,  a  hyena 
stuck  his  head  up  on  the  other  side.  The  Colonel  fired 
but  the  shot  was  unnecessary.  The  hyena  was  trapped. 
In  his  greediness,  he  had  rammed  his  head  through 
a  wall  of  muscle  in  the  elephant’s  stomach  and  could 
not  get  it  out.  The  hair  was  worn  thin  on  his  neck 
by  his  efforts  to  escape,  but  he  was  literally  tied  up 
in  the  thing  he  loved  best. 

A  day  or  two  later  Roosevelt  went  on  to  Uganda 

and  down  the  Nile. 


CHAPTER  IX 


INVENTIONS  AND  WARFARE 

SOON  after  my  return  from  my  1905  trip  to 
Africa  I  got  my  attention  turned  away  from 
taxidermy  for  a  little  while  in  a  curious  fash¬ 
ion.  The  Field  Museum  was  still  in  the  old  Colum¬ 
bian  Exposition  Building  in  which  it  had  started. 
The  outside  of  this  stucco  building  kept  peeling  so 
that  it  had  a  very  disreputable  appearance.  The 
Park  Department  protested  to  the  museum  authori¬ 
ties.  I  happened  to  be  in  the  museum  one  day  when 
one  of  the  officers  had  this  on  his  mind  and  he  said: 

“  Akeley,  how  are  we  going  to  get  the  outside  of  this 
building  respectable  at  a  reasonable  cost?” 

I  got  to  thinking  about  it.  In  the  many  experi¬ 
ments  of  one  kind  and  another  that  I  had  tried  in 
working  out  methods  for  manikin  making  I  had 
among  other  things  used  a  compressed  air  spray.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  possible  to  make  an 
apparatus  on  this  principle  that  would  spray  a  very 
liquid  concrete  on  to  the  side  of  a  building.  I  set  to 
work  and  rigged  up  a  somewhat  crude  apparatus  and 
set  it  up  outside  the  museum  building.  It  was  not 
a  finished  piece  of  mechanism  and  it  had  the  further 
disadvantage  of  having  its  compressed  air  come  quite 
a  long  way  in  a  hose.  Nevertheless  it  worked,  and 

164 


\ 


INVENTIONS  AND  WARFARE  165 

the  old  building  was  repaired  with  this  apparatus. 
The  Field  Museum  never  used  the  cement  gun  any 
more  but  some  friends  came  along  and  offered  to 
put  money  enough  behind  the  idea  to  perfect,  manu¬ 
facture,  and  sell  it.  As  with  all  such  things  the  first 
money  went  and  then  a  second  like  amount,  but  in 
the  end  the  cement  gun  succeeded,  and  during  the 
war  it,  among  other  things,  was  used  to  make  the  con¬ 
crete  ships.  This  occupied  most  of  my  time  between 
1907  and  1909.  In  fact,  I  drove  the  first  motorized 
cement  gun  down  to  the  house  of  its  chief  financial 
backer  on  Long  Island  in  1909,  and  went  back  to 
New  York  to  go  again  to  Africa. 

As  I  am  no  longer  financially  interested  in  the  ce¬ 
ment  gun,  I  may  say  with  pride  that  there  are  now 
approximately  1,250  machines  in  use,  not  only  in  the 
United  States,  but  also  in  the  principal  foreign  coun¬ 
tries.  In  addition  to  the  use  for  which  it  was  origi¬ 
nally  designed,  that  of  restoring  masonry  and  con¬ 
crete  structures,  many  other  important  purposes  are 
now  served  by  this  mechanism.  In  coal  mines  it  is 
being  used  to  keep  slate  roofs  from  falling  and  to 
fireproof  the  timbers.  Irrigation  ditches  and  reser¬ 
voirs  are  being  lined  and  dams  are  being  faced  and 
protected  against  the  destructive  action  of  water 
and  frost  by  this  method.  In  tunnel  construction, 
a  lining  put  in  with  the  cement  gun  prevents  falls 
and  insures  an  absolute  sealing.  It  protects  steel, 
protects  piles  against  teredo  and  fire,  protects  struc¬ 
tures  against  acid,  restores  boiler  settings  and  pre¬ 
serves  them  from  further  action  of  the  heat,  rebuilds 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


1 66 

baffle  walls,  makes  economical  floor  and  roof  slabs, 
and  is  being  used  extensively  in  putting  up  walls  of 
buildings  that  are  permanent  and  fireproof. 

My  next  trip  to  Africa  in  1909  also  served  to  de¬ 
velop  another  activity  besides  taxidermy.  One  of 
the  principal  objects  of  this  trip  was  to  get  moving 
pictures  of  the  Nandi  spearing  lions.  However,  I 
found  that  you  can't  stage  a  native  lion  hunt  with 
any  certainty,  for  neither  the  lion  nor  the  native, 
once  the  action  begins,  pays  any  attention  to  the 
movie  director.  In  order  to  have  even  a  fair  chance 
of  following  the  action  with  a  camera  you  need  one 
that  you  can  aim  up,  down,  or  in  any  direction  with 
about  the  same  ease  that  you  can  point  a  pistol. 
There  were  no  movie  cameras  like  this,  and  after  fail¬ 
ing  to  get  pictures  of  several  lions  I  determined  not 
to  go  to  Africa  again  until  I  had  one. 

When  I  got  home  I  set  to  work  on  the  problem  and 
after  much  experimentation  completed  a  working 
model  that  bore  no  likeness  to  the  conventional  mo¬ 
tion-picture  apparatus.  To  one  familiar  with  the  old 
types  of  camera  the  Akeley  resembled  a  machine 
gun  quite  as  much  as  it  resembled  a  camera.  During 
the  war  I  used  to  say  that  the  boys  who  operated  it 
would  be  well  protected  and  Photoplay  in  January, 
1919,  related  a  story  of  the  American  advance  in 
France  which  bore  out  my  opinion.  While  setting 
up  the  machine  to  make  some  shots  in  a  still-burning 
and  newly  occupied  village,  a  young  lieutenant  was 
confronted  suddenly  by  seven  Germans.  Mistaking 
his  formidable  film  apparatus  for  a  new  type  cf  Yan- 


INVENTIONS  AND  WARFARE  167 

kee  machine  gun,  they  threw  up  their  hands  and  sur¬ 
rendered.  The  story  is  probably  all  the  better  be¬ 
cause  its  truth  is  doubtful. 

Since  its  perfection  the  Akeley  camera  has  been 
carried  into  many  of  the  far-away  corners  of  the  globe 
by  museum  expeditions  and  explorers.  The  Katmai 
Expedition  of  the  National  Geographic  Society,  the 
Mulford  Biological  Expedition  to  the  Amazon  Basin, 
the  Third  Asiatic  Expedition  of  the  American  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  the  MacMillan  Arctic  Associa¬ 
tion,  and  the  British  Guiana  Tropical  Research  Sta¬ 
tion  at  Kartabo  under  the  direction  of  William  Beebe, 
are  some  of  those  which  have  been  equipped  with 
Akeleys.  In  taking  “Nanook  of  the  North,  ”  the 
picture  made  for  popular  distribution  by  the  Revillon 
Freres  Arctic  Expedition,  Mr.  Flaherty  used  two  of 
my  cameras.  Martin  Johnson,  whose  motion  pic¬ 
tures  of  the  South  Sea  Islands  and  of  Africa  have 
won  him  renown  as  a  “  camera  hunter,”  is  planning 
to  include  three  in  the  equipment  for  his  next  African 
expedition.  To  a  degree  at  least,  the  camera  is  ac¬ 
complishing  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  designed. 

While  I  had  little  idea  at  first  that  this  camera  would 
fill  any  other  needs  than  my  own,  as  it  has  been  per¬ 
fected  it  has  proved  its  practicability  for  general  use. 
The  fundamental  difference  between  the  Akeley 
motion-picture  camera  and  the  others  is  a  panoramic 
device  which  enables  one  to  swing  it  all  about,  much 
as  one  would  swing  a  swivel  gun,  following  the  natural 
line  of  vision.  Thus  instead  of  having  to  manipulate 
two  cranks  with  the  left  hand,  one  to  tilt  the  camera 


i68 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


and  the  other  to  move  it  horizontally,  the  operator  by 
means  of  a  single  control  secures  a  steady  movement 
which  may  be  vertical,  horizontal,  or  diagonal,  and 
which  enables  him  to  keep  a  moving  object  always  in 
the  centre  of  the  field.  This  flexibility  especially 
adapts  the  camera  not  only  for  wild  animal  photog¬ 
raphy,  but  also  for  studio  work,  where  an  erratic 
follow-up  is  to  be  accomplished,  and  for  news  reel 
photography.  It  was  this  advantage,  combined  with 
another  special  qualification,  the  freer  use  of  the 
telephoto  lens — which  brings  a  distant  object  into 
the  foreground  on  the  screen — which  made  possible 
a  successful  picture  of  the  Man-o’-War  race  and  the 
Dempsey-Carpentier  prize  fight.  Anthropologists 
have  found  the  telephoto  lens  useful  in  making  motion 
pictures  of  natives  of  uncivilized  countries  without 
their  knowledge.  Because  of  the  difficulty  of  secur¬ 
ing  the  proper  lighting  in  the  woods,  I  had  paid 
particular  attention  to  the  shutter  so  that  as  perfected 
the  shutter  admits  thirty  per  cent,  more  light  than 
the  usual  camera  shutter.  This  characteristic  also 
has  commended  the  camera  to  general  use.  In  out- 
of-door  photography  on  a  dark  day  as  well  as  in  the 
studio,  where  the  lighting  is  one  of  the  greatest  items 
of  expense,  its  advantage  is  obvious.  Tom  Mix  and 
Douglas  Fairbanks  are  both  making  extensive  use 
of  the  camera  now  and  a  recent  feature  directed  by 
Lawrence  Trimble  was  made  with  it. 

I  was  working  on  the  camera,  modelling  a  little  and 
mounting  the  elephant  group,  when  the  war  came  on 
us.  That  meant  a  call  for  every  man's  energy  and 


INVENTIONS  AND  WARFARE  169 

brains.  I  was  keen  to  do  something,  but  there  popped 
into  my  head  an  old  unfortunate  phrase  that  had  long 
held  lodgment  there.  ‘‘Nothing  but  a  taxidermist.” 
That  was  the  sentiment  of  an  editorial  published  in 
the  Youth's  Companion ,  a  magazine  which  was  almost 
my  Bible,  some  fifty  years  ago.  As  a  youngster  I 
always  had  to  combat  the  feeling  that  taxidermy  was 
of  no  importance,  both  on  my  own  part,  when  I  was 
not  completely  lost  in  the  joy  of  my  work,  and  also 
on  the  part  of  those  about  me.  But,  inasmuch  as  it 
had  been  the  advertisements  of  books  on  taxidermy 
in  the  Companion  that  had  given  me  my  first  encour¬ 
agement,  I  felt  a  particular  resentment  toward  a 
magazine  which  would  so  betray  its  advertisers  and 
its  readers. 

My  conviction  that  museum  exhibition  is  playing 
an  important  part  in  modern  education  has  long  since 
satisfied  me  that  the  work  which  I  have  chosen  as 
mine  is  worth  while,  but  all  through  my  experiences 
at  Ward’s  and  in  Milwaukee  the  doubt  persisted. 
Was  I  not  wasting  my  life  on  something  that  did  not 
count?  And,  needless  to  say,  my  own  doubt  was 
deepened  by  the  indifference  of  others. 

With  the  war  came  the  cessation  of  all  normal  life. 
An  occupation  popularly  considered  as  unessential  as 
mine  ought  to  stop  among  the  first.  Anyway,  I  had 
to  get  into  it.  The  only  way  to  be  happy  was  to  get 
into  it,  but  there  was  something  rather  ridiculous 
about  the  idea  that  an  African  naturalist  and  a  “good- 
for-nothing  taxidermist”  could  be  of  much  service 
in  wartime.  At  first  it  did  not  strike  me — or  any  one 


1 7o  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

else,  for  that  matter — that  the  principles  I  had  worked 
out  for  taxidermy,  for  the  cement  gun,  and  for  the 
camera  might  be  applied  to  the  mechanical  devices 
of  warfare. 

But  work  began  with  an  order  from  the  Govern¬ 
ment  for  a  lot  of  Akeley  cameras.  A  call  from  the 
Signal  Corps  of  the  War  Department  asking  me  to 
bring  them  down  took  me  to  Washington  shortly  after 
war  was  declared,  with  the  result  that  I  accepted  a 
contract  whereby  the  entire  output  of  the  camera  shop 
was  turned  over  to  the  United  States  Government. 

Soon  after  I  became  a  Specialist  on  Mechanical 
Devices  and  Optical  Equipment  in  the  Division  of 
Investigation,  Research,  and  Development  of  the 
Engineer  Corps.  My  chief  was  Major  O.  B.  Zimmer¬ 
man,  who  thirty  years  before  had  been  my  student  in 
Milwaukee.  He  had  wanted  to  become  a  taxidermist, 
but  in  those  days  taxidermy  seemed  a  mighty  poor 
game  and  I  did  my  best  to  dissuade  him  from  any 
such  mad  career.  His  wisdom  in  following  my  ad¬ 
vice  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  when  the  war  broke 
out  he  was  in  Belgium  as  one  of  the  leading  engineers 
for  the  International  Harvester  Company.  I  had  a 
desk  in  Major  Zimmerman's  office,  but  my  actual 
work  was  done  in  the  camera  shop  in  New  York,  in 
the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  and  in 
various  laboratories.  At  least  once  each  week  I  rode 
back  and  forth  from  Washington  to  New  York.  My 
duties  were  those  of  a  consulting  engineer,  but  they 
were  much  varied,  for  we  had  several  things  under 
way  all  the  time.  Wherever  a  problem,  mechanical 


INVENTIONS  AND  WARFARE 


171 

or  otherwise,  arose,  I  went  to  look  things  over,  and 
if  I  had  any  suggestions  to  make,  I  was  assigned  to 
that  job.  I  spent  several  weeks  at  Brunswick, 
Georgia,  where  concrete  ships  were  under  construction 
and  where  my  experiments  with  the  cement  gun 
served  me  in  good  stead.  The  fact  that  the  concrete 
ships  were  not  successful  was  not  the  fault  of  the  con¬ 
crete  gun.  It  did  its  part. 

After  devoting  a  good  deal  of  thought  to  search¬ 
lights  and  searchlight  mirrors,  I  helped  in  lightening 
the  apparatus  materially  and  developed  a  device  for 
searchlight  control.  This  control,  which  involves 
the  same  rotary  principle  as  my  motion-picture 
camera,  enables  the  operator  standing  at  the  end  of 
an  arm  to  direct  the  rays  of  the  light  toward  any  ob¬ 
ject  in  the  sky  and  to  keep  it  in  view  by  following 
up  its  movements  with  the  light.  It  is  one  of  several 
devices  developed  at  that  time  which  have  since 
been  patented  by  the  Government  in  my  name. 
t  Roosevelt  once  asked  me  why  I  declined  to  wear  the 
major’s  uniform  offered  to  me.  “Well,  Colonel 
Roosevelt,”  I  replied  unhesitatingly,  for  I  had  my 
good  reason  for  so  doing,  “if  I  were  wearing  a  uniform, 
I  could  not  go  to  my  colonel  and  tell  him  he  was  a 
damn  fool.” 

Roosevelt  laughed  heartily. 

“You  are  quite  right,”  he  replied.  “Stick  to  it!” 

As  a  civilian  I  went  about  wherever  work  was  going 
on,  talked  freely  with  the  workmen,  heard  them  dis¬ 
cuss  their  mechanical  difficulties,  and  got  from  them 
their  ideas  for  improvements.  As  a  civilian  I  was 


172  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

also  free  to  carry  those  ideas  wherever  they  could  do 
the  most  good.  If  I  had  had  to  comply  with  the  red 
tape  of  army  officialdom,  not  only  would  my  own 
work  have  been  handicapped,  but  also  the  ideas  and 
troubles  of  the  private  actually  handling  the  machine 
might  never  have  gone  past  his  sergeant.  When  the 
armistice  was  signed,  I  was  planning  to  go  overseas  to 
observe  the  difficulties  that  the  men  were  having  at 
the  front,  so  that  I  narrowly  escaped  the  khaki. 

Whatever  my  services  may  or  may  not  have  con¬ 
tributed  to  the  defeat  of  the  Germans,  at  least  I  have 
escaped  the  accusation  directed  toward  many  a  dollar- 
a-year  man  of  being  overpaid.  The  usual  dollar-a- 
year  man,  though  the  dollar  was  never  paid  him,  re¬ 
ceived  his  expenses,  while  my  contract  called  for 
a  salary  of  ten  dollars  per  day  without  expense 
money.  My  original  agreement  was  to  include  ex¬ 
penses,  but  some  slip  was  made  which  always  seemed 
too  difficult  to  correct.  This  arrangement  made  my 
loss  even  greater  than  that  of  those  men  who  re¬ 
ceived  the  fabulous  amount  prescribed  by  law,  for 
needless  to  say  my  weekly  stipend  was  inadequate 
to  cover  the  one  item  of  railway  fare.  Still  one  had 
to  serve  to  be  happy  in  those  days,  no  matter  what 
the  cost.  Inasmuch  as  the  Akeley  camera  also  lost 
heavily  on  war  contracts,  I  have  had  the  additional 
satisfaction  of  escaping  governmental  investigation 
on  the  score  of  excess  profits.  After  it  was  all  over,  I 
ungrudgingly  paid  the  normal  tax  on  the  money  I  had 
lost,  and  I  would  not  swap  those  months  with  the 
Government  for  anything  else  in  my  experience. 


INVENTIONS  AND  WARFARE 


173 

Since  the  war,  with  the  intermission  of  my  trip 
to  Africa  for  gorillas  in  1921,  I  have  stuck  to  my 
sculpture  and  taxidermy  except  for  various  lecture 
trips. 

A  man  who  is  fortunate  enough  to  have  witnessed 
the  beauties  of  the  African  forests  and  who  has  come 
to  know  the  forest’s  inhabitants  and  their  ways,  is 
almost  sure  to  be  called  upon  to  share  his  good  for¬ 
tune  with  others,  and  I  have  done  a  good  deal  of 
lecturing.  My  first  lectures  were  to  be  given  at  Ful¬ 
lerton  Hall  in  Chicago  for  the  Field  Museum  shortly 
after  my  return  from  Africa  in  1906.  Fortunately,  I 
had  occasion  to  deliver  a  lecture  in  South  Chicago 
a  few  days  before  my  first  museum  lecture  was  sched¬ 
uled.  Otherwise,  I  probably  would  have  dropped 
dead  when  I  faced  the  Fullerton  Hall  audience.  I 
think  the  thing  that  saved  me  from  running  then 
was  the  fact  that  I  had  a  small  audience  behind  a 
screen  at  the  rear  of  the  platform  and  knew  that  it 
blocked  my  escape. 

I  had  tried  to  prepare  a  lecture,  had  realized  that 
that  was  impossible,  and  had  finally  decided  to  show 
my  audience  the  pictures  and  make  whatever  com¬ 
ments  they  brought  to  mind.  Then,  when  I  got  on 
the  platform  without  the  vaguest  idea  of  what  I  was 
going  to  say  first,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  I 
was  no  worse  frightened  than  I  had  been  one  day  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tana  when  I  suddenly  found  myself, 
with  nothing  but  a  camera  in  my  hand,  charged 
by  a  rhinoceros.  Apparently  I  had  no  escape  except 
a  thirty-foot  drop  into  the  crocodile-infested  waters 


i74  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

of  the  Tana  below.  But  the  rhino  stopped  ten  or 
fifteen  feet  from  me,  gazed  at  me  stupidly,  and  settled 
down  with  the  apparent  intention  of  going  to  sleep. 
I  took  hope  when  the  thought  crossed  my  mind  that 
this  new  terror  might  settle  down  with  the  same  in¬ 
tention  as  the  old  rhino,  leaving  me  to  my  own  re¬ 
sources  quite  unharmed.  So  I  told  my  audience  the 
story  of  the  rhino,  the  ice  was  broken,  and  I  fear  I 
nearly  talked  them  to  death  before  the  lecture  ended. 

Since  that  time  I  have  talked  far  and  wide.  I  hope 
I  have  given  some  pleasure  and  entertainment  to  the 
good  people  who  have  listened.  I  hope  also  that  I 
have  created  in  the  minds  of  my  hearers  a  background 
that  will  help  the  art  of  taxidermy  and  its  practition¬ 
ers  in  the  future.  More  especially  I  hope  that  I  have 
contributed  something  to  the  study  of  natural  his¬ 
tory  and  that  I  have  stimulated  a  decent  attitude 
toward  wild  life* 


CHAPTER  X 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR 

A  FTER  I  had  got  over  my  first  youthful  en- 
/  %  thusiasm  about  taxidermy  and  had  seen  how 
jL  jL.  it  was  practiced,  I  recognized  that,  as  it  then 
was,  it  was  not  an  art — that  it  was  in  fact  little  better 
than  a  trade.  I  had  moments  when  I  felt  like  aban¬ 
doning  the  whole  thing.  I  used  to  study  sculpture, 
particularly  animal  sculpture,  in  relation  to  taxi¬ 
dermy.  I  remember  that  when  I  was  twenty-eight 
years  old  I  came  to  New  York  and  spent  hours  at 
the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art  with  the  itch  in  my 
hands  and  brain  to  become  a  sculptor.  But  one  thing 
restrained  me.  I  had  enough  common  sense  to  know 
that  while  I  might  become  a  sculptor  and  even  a 
fairly  successful  one  I  could  never  contribute  to  that 
art  what  I  could  contribute  to  taxidermy.  I  believed 
then  that  I  could  start  taxidermy  on  the  road  from  a 
trade  to  an  art.  So  I  turned  away  from  sculpture. 
Nevertheless,  the  idea  of  being  a  sculptor  kept  run¬ 
ning  in  my  mind.  And  whenever  it  did,  it  depressed 
me.  Finally,  I  gave  up  going  near  the  Art  Museum 
altogether. 

But  the  discipline  that  I  inflicted  on  myself  I  could 
not  inflict  on  other  people.  I  had  to  make  little  clay 
groups  as  studies  and  models  for  the  animal  groups 

175 


176  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

that  I  was  mounting.  Many  people  who  saw  these 
clay  models  would  suggest  that  I  have  them  cast  in 
bronze.  If  I  had  not  still  had  the  fever  of  sculpturing 
in  my  blood,  these  remarks  would  not  have  stuck  in 
my  mind,  but  as  it  was  they  did.  So  this  idea  be¬ 
came  familiar  to  me. 

However,  it  was  a  good  many  years  after  it  first 
became  a  regular  inhabitant  of  my  mind  that  I  put 
it  in  practice,  for  along  with  it  had  grown  up  the  no¬ 
tion  that  I  should  not  merely  turn  models  into  bronzes 
but  that  I  would  wait  until  I  had  a  real  contribution. 
Real  contributions  did  not  seem  abundant  and  so  year 
after  year  went  by  with  no  bronzes  made. 

Then  in  1912  a  situation  arose  which  I  thought 
forced  sculpture  upon  me.  I  had  a  dream  of  a  great 
African  Hall  of  forty  groups  of  animals  with  all  the 
ingenuity,  all  the  technique,  and  all  the  art  the 
country  could  boast  of.  By  that  time  I  had  come  to 
feel  that  taxidermy  could  be  a  great  art.  I  felt  that 
a  beautifully  modelled  animal  required  at  least  as 
much  knowledge,  taste,  skill,  and  technique  as  a 
bronze  or  stone  animal.  But  I  knew  that  this  con¬ 
ception  was  not  common.  A  taxidermist  couldn’t 
talk  art.  Especially  he  couldn’t  talk  art  convincingly 
to  the  kind  of  men  who  supported  great  museum 
ventures.  It  was  a  recognized  thing  to  support  art. 
Taxidermy  had  no  such  tradition.  The  only  way  out 
of  the  dilemma  that  I  could  see  was  to  prove  that 
whether  or  not  taxidermy  was  an  art  at  least  a  taxi¬ 
dermist  could  be  an  artist. 

It  was  my  desire  to  make  an  appeal  to  those  men 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR  177 

who  support  art  financially  that  stimulated  my  first 
work  in  bronze.  I  felt  that  we  might  expect  the  aid 
of  these  men  in  such  undertakings  as  the  African  Hall 
if  I  could  once  get  them  to  see  the  artistic  possibilities 
of  taxidermy.  The  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History  already  had  friends  who  were  interested  in 
art,  but  it  had  not  occurred  to  them  that  the  Mu¬ 
seum's  animal  groups  had  any  relation  to  sculpture 
because  these  groups  had  not  been  presented  in  the 
accepted  materials  of  sculpture  such  as  stone  and 
bronze.  Through  the  medium  of  bronze  I  hoped  to 
lead  them  to  see  in  the  taxidermist's  productions 
something  worthy  of  their  support  as  patrons  of  art. 

So  I  set  to  work  to  do  a  bronze  that  would  prove 
that  a  taxidermist  could  be  an  artist.  Years  before  I 
had  heard  the  story  of  an  elephant  bull  wounded  by 
hunters,  whose  two  comrades  had  ranged  themselves 
one  on  either  side  and  helped  him  to  escape.  I 
have  told  the  story  in  detail  elsewhere.  It  always  ap¬ 
pealed  to  me  as  showing  a  spirit  in  the  elephant  that 
I  should  like  to  record.  I  set  to  work  on  The 
Wounded  Comrade.  It  was  a  part  of  the  story  of  the 
elephant,  a  theme  that  always  aroused  enthusiasm 
in  me.  And  I  felt  it  was  a  labour  of  love  for  African 
Hall.  It  was  pleasant  work.  It  went  well.  The 
thing  seemed  to  take  shape  naturally.  It  was  soon 
finished.  Then  came  its  test. 

Mr.  J.  P.  Morgan  came  to  the  Museum  to  talk 
over  African  Hall.  I  explained  the  whole  plan, 
showed  him  the  model  of  the  hall  and  incidentally 
The  Wounded  Comrade.  He  liked  the  scheme.  As 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


178 

he  left  he  said  that  he  was  convinced.  “And,”  he 
added,  “I  don’t  mind  saying,”  pointing  to  the  little 
bronze  of  The  Wounded  Comrade,  “that  it  is  what 
did  it.”  I  shall  always  be  indebted  to  Mr.  Morgan 
for  that  sentence.  It  gave  me  an  extraordinary 
amount  of  contentment.  A.  Phimister  Proctor,  the 
animal  sculptor,  also  came  to  see  The  Wounded 
Comrade  in  my  studio.  He  spent  a  long  time  in 
silence,  carefully  studying  the  little  model.  I  knew 
that  Mr.  Proctor  never  gave  praise  lightly,  but 
that  he  never  hesitated  to  express  admiration  when 
in  his  opinion  the  work  had  merit.  I  felt  that  much 
depended  on  his  praise  or  blame.  And  when  he 
finally  spoke,  his  enthusiasm  was  keen.  I  did  not 
realize  how  keen  until  an  order  came  for  a  bronze  of 
The  Wounded  Comrade  from  Mr.  George  Pratt,  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Proctor,  whose  only  impression  of  the 
piece  was  gained  from  Mr.  Proctor’s  description. 
Throughout  my  career  as  a  sculptor  nothing  has 
meant  so  much  to  me  as  the  encouragement  and 
appreciation  of  the  man  who  first  declared  The 
Wounded  Comrade  a  success. 

In  recognition  of  this  first  bronze,  I  was  made  a 
member  of  the  American  Sculpture  Society.  Inas¬ 
much  as  such  a  cordial  reception  was  accorded  to  The 
Wounded  Comrade  by  artists  as  well  as  by  the  gen¬ 
eral  public,  I  felt  justified  in  devoting  more  attention 
to  sculpture.  I  felt  that  I  had  many  stories  to  tell 
about  elephants  and  that  I  could  tell  these  stories 
more  effectively  by  the  work  of  my  hands  than  in 
any  other  way.  One  chapter  is  told  in  the  group  of 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR  179 

mounted  elephants  now  in  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History.  Many  others  can  be  told  in  small 
bronzes.  I  want  to  tell  these  stories,  and  in  the  time 
I  have  on  earth  I  could  not  record  many  elephant 
stories  in  taxidermy,  for  one  group  really  done  well 
takes  years — but  I  can  tell  these  stories  in  bronze. 

After  The  Wounded  Comrade  had  made  a  success, 
many  of  my  friends  came  to  my  studio  (where  I  did 
taxidermy)  in  the  Museum  and  advised  me  to  keep  on 
making  bronzes.  “Here’s  your  opportunity,”  they 
said.  “You  have  a  market.  Fortune  favours  you. 
Don’t  neglect  the  fickle  lady.” 

But  I  did  not  follow  this  advice  and  make  many 
bronzes.  It  may  have  been  because  I  was  lazy  or 
busy  with  other  things,  but  I  like  to  think  that  it 
was  because  I  had  decided  not  to  make  bronzes 
unless  I  had  a  real  story  to  tell.  I  wanted  to  do 
justice  if  I  could  to  my  friend,  the  elephant.  And, 
also,  I  wanted  to  do  what  I  did  well  enough  to  prove 
that  a  taxidermist  could  be,  as  he  ought  to  be,  an 
artist. 

So  I  progressed  with  sculpture  very  slowly.  In 
the  nine  years  since  The  Wounded  Comrade  was  made 
I  have  made  only  six  bronzes. 

In  my  second  piece  I  have  pictured  a  scene  that  will 
always  remain  very  vivid  in  my  memory — a  charging 
herd.  I  had  been  following  a  large  herd  of  elephants, 
two  hundred  or  more,  in  the  Budongo  Forest  for  two 
days.  They  had  broken  up  into  small  bands  and 
the  particular  band  which  I  was  following  had  got 
near  the  edge  of  the  forest.  Nevertheless,  I  was 


i8o 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


having  a  hard  time  to  get  a  look  at  them.  Finally,  I 
had  recourse  to  the  somewhat  hazardous  experiment 
of  beating  on  the  tree  trunks  with  sticks  in  the  hope 
of  scaring  them  into  the  open.  This  was  successful. 
I  followed  them,  but  the  grass  was  so  high  that  I 
couldn’t  see  over  it.  I  was  in  the  act  of  climbing  a 
tree  for  better  observation  when  they  came  rolling 
along,  grunting  and  squealing,  back  to  the  forest. 
They  passed  me  within  twenty-five  yards.  They 
were  irritated  sufficiently  to  convince  me  that  it  was 
time  to  let  them  alone  and  go  to  camp.  I  started 
along  the  edge  of  the  forest.  As  I  was  pushing  along 
through  the  high  grass  a  few  minutes  later  I  heard 
another  band  coming  out  of  the  forest.  As  I  couldn’t 
see  over  the  grass  I  ran  to  an  ant-hill.  This  ant-hill 
was  six  or  seven  feet  high.  As  I  got  on  top  it  I  saw, 
about  one  hundred  yards  away,  eleven  great  animals 
pass  one  by  one  over  a  little  rise.  I  had  as  good  a 
view  of  this  majestic  march  as  a  man  will  ever  get. 
When  they  had  gone  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  they 
suddenly  stopped.  They  had  got  down  wind  and 
had  smelt  me.  Then  they  began  to  talk.  There  was 
grumbling  and  rumbling.  Conversation  of  this  kind 
meant  trouble.  It  was  an  old  story  to  me.  And 
trouble  came.  They  came  back  squealing  and  roar¬ 
ing.  I  had  to  wait  the  first  two  hundred  yards  of  the 
charge  without  shooting  for  they  were  behind  the 
ridge.  Then  they  loomed  up  over  it,  led  by  an  old 
cow  with  her  trunk  up  and  her  great  ears  cocked. 
As  the  leader  lost  the  scent  and  slowed  a  little,  they 
jammed  into  a  solid  mass.  Then  the  old  cow  saw  me 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR  181 

perched  on  my  ant-hill.  Changing  course,  they  came 
toward  me,  falling  apart  as  they  came. 

That  picture  stays  in  my  memory.  And  as  I  saw 
it  I  have  put  it  in  bronze.  The  bronze  shows  the 
first  seven  elephants  of  the  herd  jammed  together  in 
that  moment  of  hesitation  just  after  the  old  cow  saw 
me  and  turned  in  my  direction.  Her  trunk  is  curled 
up  tight,  her  ears  back  and  all  cleared  for  action. 
The  elephant  on  her  left  is  following  her  example. 
The  others  still  have  their  trunks  extended,  feeling 
for  my  scent. 

1  The  next  elephant  story  that  I  told  in  bronze  grew 
out  of  another  experience  of  mine.  I  was  following  a 
herd  of  elephants  in  bush  country.  I  was  some  dis¬ 
tance  behind  them  and  they  knew  nothing  of  me. 
Suddenly  I  heard  a  great  commotion,  squealing  and 
beating  of  bushes.  A  few  minutes  later  the  herd 
moved  on.  When  I  came  to  the  spot  where  the 
commotion  had  been  I  found  the  bushes  all  trampled 
down  and,  at  one  side  of  the  area  of  destruction  in 
the  sand,  the  remains  of  a  big  green  tree  snake  that 
had  been  stamped  into  the  ground.  I  followed  af¬ 
ter  the  herd  but  was  soon  deflected  from  the  main 
body  by  noises  in  a  little  glade  off  at  one  side  of  the 
main  trail.  I  went  to  the  edge  of  this  glade  and  saw 
a  young  bull  elephant  smashing  about  in  the  forest 
alone,  breaking  down  trees,  squealing,  and  in  general 
acting  like  a  small  boy  who  had  been  stung  on  the 
nose  by  a  hornet.  After  a  while  he  quieted  down  and 
went  along  after  the  others,  grumbling  and  protesting. 
I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  while  feeding  in  the 


182 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


bushes  he  had  thrust  his  trunk  too  close  to  a  poisonous 
tree  snake  and  had  been  stung;  that  he  had  beaten 
the  snake  on  to  the  ground  with  his  trunk  and  stamped 
it  to  death.  In  the  bronze  I  pictured  the  snake  alive 
on  the  ground  and  the  elephant  in  the  act  of  tram¬ 
pling  it  to  death. 

In  addition  to  these  elephant  bronzes  I  have  done 
one  other  bronze  of  a  combat  between  a  lion  and  a 
buffalo,  and  I  have  two  other  elephant  subjects 
started  in  clay.  I  have  never  seen  a  lion  and  a  buffalo 
fight  nor  do  I  know  of  any  one  else  who  has.  But  I 
know  at  least  two  authentic  records  of  the  dead  bodies 
of  a  lion  and  a  buffalo  together — mute  evidence  of  a 
fight  to  a  finish  and  death  to  both.  And  I  have  seen 
dead  buffalo  carcasses  from  which  one  could  tell 
pretty  well  how  the  lion  had  killed  his  prey.  The 
lion  tries  to  throw  the  buffalo  in  much  the  same 
manner  as  a  cowboy  “bulldogs”  a  steer — that  is,  he 
throws  him  by  jerking  the  buffalo’s  head  down.  In 
the  bronze  I  have  represented  the  lion  as  having 
“bulldogged”  the  buffalo  by  catching  his  nose  with 
a  front  paw  and  bending  his  head  to  the  ground  in 
his  effort  to  throw  him.  The  buffalo  has  saved  him¬ 
self  from  a  fall  by  bracing  himself  with  one  front  foot 
and  the  scene  is  set  for  a  battle  royal  unless  the  lion 
bolts. 

One  of  the  bronzes  that  will  soon  be  published 
records  a  scene  that  will  always  be  a  pleasant  memory 
to  me.  I  was  watching  an  elephant  herd  on  the  march 
through  an  open  grass  country.  The  elders  moved 
along  sedately  enough,  but  at  one  side  of  the  herd 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR  183 

several  babies  were  squealing  and  pushing  each  other 
— having  a  fine  time  at  play.  Sometimes  they  were 
ahead  of  the  herd  and  sometimes  behind  it,  but  all 
the  time  in  a  very  gay  mood.  There  seemed  to  be 
something  that  they  were  playing  with,  but  the  grass 
was  too  high  and  I  was  too  far  off  to  make  out  what 
it  was.  However,  where  the  trail  of  the  herd  finally 
went  into  the  forest,  I  discovered  the  babies'  play¬ 
thing.  It  was  a  big  dirt  ball  about  two  and  one  half 
feet  in  diameter,  a  fragment  of  an  ant-hill.  These 
ant-hills  are  made  of  a  mixture  of  saliva  and  sand 
which  when  baked  by  the  African  sun  gets  almost  as 
hard  as  brick.  A  steel-jacketed  bullet  will  be  cut 
all  to  pieces  before  penetrating  the  surface  of  an  ant¬ 
hill  at  all.  In  some  way  the  baby  elephants  had  got 
a  fragment  of  an  old  ant-hill  that  was  nearly  round 
and  this  they  had  used  as  a  ball  to  roll  along  in  their 
play.  It  is  not  so  surprising,  therefore,  that  an  ele¬ 
phant  can  be  made  to  do  tricks  with  a  ball  in  the 
circus ! 

I  am  putting  the  youngsters  and  their  ball  into 
bronze  for  one  group. 

The  other  is  called  At  Bay  and  represents  an  ele¬ 
phant  with  trunk  up  standing  at  bay  with  his  hind 
leg  tied  to  a  great  log. 

One  of  the  native's  methods  of  hunting  elephants 
is  to  dig  a  pit  in  an  elephant  path,  cover  the  pit  over 
with  a  “  basket" — a  kind  of  trap — put  a  noose  on 
top  of  the  “basket,”  and  camouflage  the  whole  with 
grass  and  leaves.  When  the  trap  is  set  there  is  no 
evidence  of  anything  but  a  plain  and  safe  path.  The 


i84  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

noose  is  one  end  of  a  twisted  rawhide  cable,  the  other 
end  of  which  is  fastened  to  a  heavy  log.  If  the  trap 
works,  the  elephant  steps  on  the  “basket”  and  his  leg 
goes  through.  The  “ basket”  sticks  to  his  leg  and 
holds  the  noose  until  the  elephant  moves  enough  to 
draw  it  tight.  Then  he  begins  to  drag  the  heavy  log 
through  the  forest.  He  cannot  go  far  or  fast  and  he 
leaves  an  unmistakable  trail.  He  is  a  high-strung, 
nervous  creature  and  when  after  a  few  days  of  trekking 
about  with  his  tormenting  log  the  natives  come  up 
with  him,  he  is  weak  from  lack  of  food  and  water. 
There  he  stands  at  bay,  as  I  have  pictured  him  in 
bronze.  But  his  defiance  is  of  slight  avail,  for  there 
is  little  to  be  feared  from  his  charge.  It  is  compara¬ 
tively  simple  fcr  his  enemies  to  finish  him  off  with 
poisoned  spears  and  arrows. 

In  my  bronzes  I  am  telling  bit  by  bit  my  stories  of 
African  animals.  A  series  of  three  groups  telling  the 
story  of  native  lion-spearing  will  be  finished  by  the 
time  this  book  is  out  and  will  ultimately  take  its  place 
in  Roosevelt  African  Hall.  In  1911  I  got  together  a 
band  of  Nandi  spearmen  on  the  Uasin  Gishu  Plateau 
to  hunt  lions.  I  wanted  a  motion  picture  of  native 
lion-spearing,  the  most  dramatic  thing  Africa  has  to 
offer.  In  twenty  days  the  Nandi  had  speared  ten 
lions  and  five  leopards.  My  moving  pictures  were 
not  very  satisfactory  but  I  did  get  two  other  very 
diverse  results  from  the  trip— the  determination  to 
invent  a  better  camera  for  wild-animal  photography, 
and  the  idea  for  these  lion-spearing  groups. 

The  first  two  groups  represent  three  native  spear- 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR  185 

men  in  the  act  of  facing  the  charge  of  a  lion  and  lion¬ 
ess,  the  lioness  characteristically  leading  the  charge. 
The  third  group,  a  sequel  to  the  other  two,  shows  the 
three  hunters  chanting  a  requiem  over  the  dead  lion. 

I  have  done  another  lion — one  that  interests  me 
more  than  all  the  others.  And  this  piece  of  sculpture 
came  about  in  this  way.  When  I  met  President 
Roosevelt  at  the  White  House  on  my  return  from 
Africa  in  1906,  I  was  impressed  with  the  power  and 
humanity  of  the  man  as  all  were  who  knew  him.  One 
of  the  great  experiences  of  my  life  was  that  quiet 
talk  with  Theodore  Roosevelt  in  the  shade  of  the 
acacia  tree  on  the  Uasin  Gishu  Plateau  when  I  came 
to  know  the  man  and  to  love  him.  After  our  return 
from  Africa,  he  was  constantly  reminding  me  of  my 
unwritten  African  book  and  saying  that  he  wanted 
to  write  a  foreword  and  a  chapter  for  that  book.  But 
I  had  no  such  hankering  to  write  as  I  had  to  do  sculp¬ 
ture,  and  so  I  put  it  off.  At  last,  however,  in  1919, 
after  the  war  was  over,  I  sat  down  one  day  and  started 
to  write  him  a  letter  to  say  that  I  would  begin  the 
book.  I  had  written  the  two  words,  “  Dear  Colonel,” 
when  the  telephone  rang.  It  was  my  friend,  George 
H.  Sherwood,  the  executive  secretary  of  the  Museum. 

“  Ake,”  he  said,  “I  have  bad  news  for  you. 
Colonel  Roosevelt  died  this  morning.” 

For  me  the  bottom  dropped  out  of  everything. 
From  that  time  until  I  got  back  from  the  funeral  I 
did  nothing.  When  I  returned  from  the  funeral  I 
was  terribly  depressed.  I  had  to  find  expression. 
I  found  it  most  naturally  in  modelling.  I  set  to  worl ' 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


186 

on  a  lion.  I  meant  to  make  it  symbolic  of  Roosevelt, 
of  his  strength,  courage,  fearlessness — of  his  kingly 
qualities  in  the  old-fashioned  sense.  And  this  model¬ 
ling  afforded  me  great  comfort  and  relief.  I  worked 
on  it  day  after  day.  Taxidermy,  groups  and  bronzes, 
were  all  forgotten.  While  I  was  so  engaged  one  day 
an  old  friend  of  mine,  James  Brite,  an  architect,  called 
me  on  the  telephone.  I  asked  him  if  he  wouldn’t 
come  up  and  design  a  pedestal  for  the  lion.  He  came 
up  not  only  that  day  but  many  others.  Neither  of 
us  knew  just  what  we  were  going  to  do  with  it  when  it 
was  finished.  I  had  a  vague  idea  of  casting  it,  making 
one  bronze  for  Mrs.  Roosevelt,  and  destroying  the 
model. 

We  were  still  working  when  one  day  Archie  Roose¬ 
velt  came  in.  I  showed  the  lion  to  him. 

“None  of  us  want  to  see  statues  of  Father,”  he  said. 
“They  can’t  make  Father,”  and  as  he  put  his  arms 
about  the  pedestal  of  the  lion,  “but  this  is  Father. 
Of  course,  you  do  not  know  it,  but  among  ourselves 
we  boys  always  called  him  the  ‘Old  Lion’  and  when 
he  died  I  cabled  the  others  in  France,  ‘The  Old  Lion 
is  dead.’” 

Other  members  of  the  Roosevelt  family  and  friends 
of  the  Colonel  came,  and  what  they  said  encouraged 
us.  I  made  one  model  after  another,  trying  to  blend 
the  majesty  of  a  real  lion  with  the  symbolism.  Then 
one  day  when  Mr.  Brite  and  I  were  in  the  studio  a 
man  came  in  whom  we  had  never  seen  before.  After 
some  desultory  conversation  he  asked  how  large  the 
lion  was  to  be.  We  said  we  didn’t  know.  “How 


A  TAXIDERMIST  AS  A  SCULPTOR  187 

big  ought  it  to  be?”  we  asked.  “It  ought  to  be  as 
big  as  possible  and  it  ought  to  be  placed  in  Washing¬ 
ton,”  was  his  reply. 

Brite  pointed  out  that  so  large  a  lion  would  neces¬ 
sitate  a  pedestal  that  would  nearly  cut  him  off  from 
view  from  the  ground.  And  then  developed  the  idea 
of  placing  the  lion  in  a  great  bowl. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  a  long  period  of  work  on 
a  great  plan  for  a  Roosevelt  Memorial. 

All  this  was  originated  without  thought  of  the 
Roosevelt  Memorial  Society  which  had  raised  a 
million  and  a  half  dollars  among  other  things  to  erect 
a  monument  to  Roosevelt.  The  natural  thing  to  do 
was  to  submit  this  offering  of  ours  to  that  society. 
We  have  done  this,  and  it  will  be  judged  in  competi¬ 
tion  with  the  designs  of  others.  If  it  should  be  chosen 
it  will  be  because  no  other  competitor,  though  they 
all  be  better  sculptors,  can  possibly  have  the  same 
deep  desire  as  I  to  perpetuate  the  spirit  of  Theodore 
Roosevelt  and  to  do  him  all  honour. 


CHAPTER  XI 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  IN  CENTRAL  AFRICA 

IN  1910  I  was  in  British  East  Africa  collecting 
specimens  for  the  group  of  elephants  recently 
completed  in  the  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History  in  New  York.  My  plan  at  that  time  was  to 
leave  the  region  of  snow-capped  Mt.  Kenia  when 
I  had  finished  making  my  elephant  studies,  and  to  go 
into  German  East  Africa,  as  it  was  then,  in  an  en¬ 
deavour  to  get  specimens  for  a  group  of  gorillas  to  be 
mounted  for  the  Museum.  I  had  obtained  the  proper 
papers  from  the  German  authorities,  and  I  had  funds 
for  the  purpose.  Nevertheless,  I  had  to  abandon 
the  plan  at  that  time  because  an  elephant  caught  me 
unawares  and  mauled  me  sufficiently  to  prevent  my 
carrying  out  my  project. 

But  the  gorilla  group  remained  as  an  interesting 
prospect  ahead,  and  I  read  eagerly  any  reports  which 
came  to  my  knowledge  of  hunters  or  scientists  who 
had  seen  or  killed  any  of  these  animals.  Most 
gorillas  reported  since  their  original  discovery  had 
been  reported  from  nearer  the  west  coast  of  Africa 
than  the  region  which  I  had  intended  to  explore  for 
them,  but  I  had  heard  of  one  instance  of  a  gorilla  in 
German  East  Africa.  The  story  was  of  a  German 
who  had  tried  to  catch  a  grown  gorilla  in  a  net.  He 

188 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  189 

had  succeeded  in  getting  the  net  over  the  animal  and 
then  the  animal  had  succeeded  in  tearing  his  way  out 
of  the  net  and  killing  the  man.  Whether  this  story 
was  true  or  not  I  do  not  know.  Before  I  left  Africa, 
in  1 91 1,  I  heard  that  a  man  named  Grauer  had  gone 
into  the  country  where  I  had  intended  going  and 
that  he  had  come  out  through  Nairobi  with  eight 
gorilla  skins.  Altogether  there  came  to  me  consider¬ 
able  corroboration  of  my  belief  that  there  were  goril¬ 
las  in  the  Lake  Kivu  country  of  Central  Africa,  and 
my  intention  to  go  there  and  collect  the  material  for 
a  group  remained  constant  although,  through  the 
period  of  the  war,  inactive. 

It  came  to  life  in  1920.  One  night  I  was  expound¬ 
ing  the  beauties  of  Africa  to  my  friend  Mr.  H.  E. 
Bradley  when  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Bradley  and  said, 
“Let’s  take  him  at  his  word  and  spend  a  year  in 
Africa.”  Mrs.  Bradley  asked  what  they  should  do 
with  their  five-year-old  daughter.  Nothing  pleased 
me  more  than  to  assure  them  that  an  expedition  to 
Central  Africa  was  entirely  safe  and  practicable  for 
women  and  children,  and  so  an  expedition  was  agreed 
upon.  Years  before,  when  she  was  a  child,  I  had 
promised  the  niece  of  a  friend  of  mine,  Miss  Martha 
Miller,  to  take  her  to  Africa.  I  had  never  been  al¬ 
lowed  to  forget  the  promise.  Now  the  time  for  ful¬ 
fillment  had  come.  So  the  party  was  formed  of  these 
two  ladies,  Bradley,  the  five-year-old  child,  Miss  Pris¬ 
cilla  Hall,  and  me.  Miss  Hall  had  agreed  to  look  af¬ 
ter  the  youngster  while  the  others  hunted.  Not  long 
afterward  it  was  definitely  decided  that  the  expedi- 


190  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

tion  was  to  be  a  gorilla  expedition.  I  received  a 
letter  from  an  Englishman,  Mr.  C.  D.  Foster,  who  had 
shot  a  male  and  female  gorilla  and  caught  a  baby  in 
the  country  I  had  in  mind.  That  led  us  t6  base  our 
plans  on  gorillas  alone,  and  it  was  a  gorilla  expedition, 
although  Miss  Miller  killed  an  elephant  the  first  time 
she  shot  at  anything  in  Africa  and  both  she  and  Mrs. 
Bradley  killed  lions. 

To  me  the  gorilla  made  a  much  more  interesting 
quarry  than  lions,  elephants,  or  any  of  the  other 
African  game,  for  the  gorilla  is  still  comparatively 
little  known.  Not  many  people  have  shot  gorillas 
and  almost  none  have  studied  them  in  their  native 
habitat.  The  gorilla  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
and  least  known  large  animals  in  the  world,  and 
when  is  added  to  that  the  fact  that  he  is  the  nearest 
to  man  of  any  other  member  of  the  animal  kingdom, 
a  gorilla  expedition  acquires  a  tremendous  fascina, 
tion. 

An  Englishman  named  Battell — a  captive  of  the 
Portuguese  of  Angola — in  1590  described  an  animal 
which  in  all  probability  was  the  gorilla.  Vague 
stories  from  other  sources  appeared  in  travellers'  ac¬ 
counts,  but  no  real  description  of  the  gorilla  came  to 
Europe  or  America  until  December,  1847,  when  Dr. 
Thomas  S.  Savage,  a  missionary,  published  a  paper 
in  the  Boston  Journal  of  Natural  History .  Doctor 
Savage  was  detained  in  April  of  that  year  at  a  mission 
on  the  Gaboon  River  in  West  Africa  and  there  made 
his  discovery.  He  did  not  see  a  live  gorilla  himself, 
but  from  skulls  and  information  brought  him  by 


HUNTING  GORILLAS 


191 

natives,  made  a  rather  remarkable  description  of  the 
animals,  part  of  which  is  as  follows: 

Its  height  is  above  five  feet,  it  is  disproportionately  broad 
across  the  shoulders,  thickly  covered  with  coarse  black  hair, 
which  is  said  to  be  similar  in  its  arrangement  to  that  of  the 
Enge-eco  (the  chimpanzee).  With  age  it  becomes  gray,  which 
fact  has  given  rise  to  the  report  that  both  animals  are  seen  of 
different  colors.  .  .  . 

Their  gait  is  shuffling,  the  motion  of  the  body,  which  is  never 
upright  as  in  man,  but  bent  forward,  is  somewhat  rolling,  or 
from  side  to  side.  The  arms  being  longer  than  those  of  the 
chimpanzee  it  does  not  stoop  as  much  in  walking;  like  that 
animal  it  makes  progression  by  thrusting  its  arms  forward, 
resting  the  hands  on  the  ground  and  then  giving  the  body  a  half 
jumping,  half  swinging  motion  between  them.  In  this  act  it  is 
said  not  to  flex  the  fingers  as  does  the  chimpanzee,  resting  on 
the  knuckles,  but  to  extend  them,  thus  making  a  fulcrum  of  the 
hand.  When  it  assumes  the  walking  posture  to  which  it  is  said 
to  be  much  inclined,  it  balances  its  huge  body  by  flexing  the 
arms  upward.  They  live  in  bands,  but  are  not  so  numerous  as 
the  chimpanzees;  the  females  generally  exceed  the  other  sex  in 
number.  My  informants  all  agree  in  the  assertion  that  but  one 
adult  male  is  seen  in  a  band;  that  when  the  young  males  grow 
up  a  contest  takes  place  for  mastery,  and  the  strongest,  by  kill¬ 
ing  and  driving  out  the  others,  establishes  himself  as  the  head 
of  the  community.  The  silly  stories  about  their  carrying  off 
women  from  the  native  towns,  and  vanquishing  the  elephants, 
related  by  voyagers  and  widely  copied  into  books,  are  unhesi¬ 
tatingly  denied.  They  have  been  averred  of  the  chimpanzee, 
but  this  is  still  more  preposterous.  They  probably  had  their 
origin  in  the  marvelous  accounts  given  by  the  natives,  of  the 
Enge  -ena,  to  credulous  traders. 

Their  dwellings,  if  they  may  be  so  called,  are  similar  to  those 
of  the  chimpanzee,  consisting  simply  of  a  few  sticks  and  leafy 
branches  supported  by  the  crotches  and  limbs  of  trees;  they 
afford  no  shelter,  and  are  occupied  only  at  night. 

They  are  exceedingly  ferocious,  and  always  offensive  in  their 
habits,  never  running  from  man  as  does  the  chimpanzee.  They 


192 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

are  objects  of  terror  to  the  natives,  and  are  never  encountered 
by  them  except  on  the  defensive.  The  few  that  have  been 
captured  were  killed  by  elephant  hunters  and  native  traders  as 
they  came  suddenly  upon  them  while  passing  through  the  forests. 

It  is  said  that  when  the  male  is  first  seen  he  gives  a  terrific 
yell  that  resounds  far  and  wide  through  the  forest,  something 
like  kh-ah!  kh-ah!  prolonged  and  shrill.  His  enormous  jaws 
are  widely  opened  at  each  expiration,  his  under  lip  hangs  over 
the  chin,  and  the  hairy  ridge  and  scalp  is  contracted  upon  the 
brow,  presenting  an  aspect  of  indescribable  ferocity.  The 
females  and  young  at  the  first  cry  quickly  disappear;  he  then 
approaches  the  enemy  in  great  fury,  pouring  out  his  horrid  cries 
in  quick  succession.  The  hunter  awaits  his  approach  with  his 
gun  extended:  if  his  aim  is  not  sure  he  permits  the  animal  to 
grasp  the  barrel  and  as  he  carries  it  to  his  mouth  (which  is  his 
habit)  he  fires;  should  the  gun  fail  to  go  off,  the  barrel  (that  of 
an  ordinary  musket,  which  is  thin)  is  crushed  between  his  teeth, 
and  the  encounter  soon  proves  fatal  to  the  hunter. 

The  killing  of  an  Enge-ena  (gorilla)  is  considered  an  act  of 
great  skill  and  courage,  and  brings  the  victor  signal  honor. 
A  slave  to  an  Mpongwe  man,  from  an  interior  tribe,  killed  the 
male  and  female  whose  bones  are  the  origin  of  this  article.  On 
one  occasion  he  had  succeeded  in  killing  an  elephant,  and  return¬ 
ing  home  met  a  male  Enge-ena,  and  being  a  good  marksman  he 
soon  brought  him  to  the  ground.  He  had  not  proceeded  far 
before  the  female  was  observed,  which  he  also  killed.  This 
act,  unheard  of  before,  was  considered  almost  superhuman. 
The  man’s  freedom  was  immediately  granted  to  him,  and  his 
name  proclaimed  abroad  as  the  prince  of  hunters. 

'  Eight  years  afterward  the  first  white  man  killed 
a  gorilla.  In  1855  Paul  Du  Chaillu,  a  French- 
American,  went  to  West  Africa  after  gorillas.  To 
our  party,  with  the  intention  of  not  only  shooting 
gorillas  but  of  studying  them  and  taking  moving  pic¬ 
tures  of  them,  the  narrative  of  this  intrepid  little 
hunter  had  particular  fascination. 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  193 

On  the  day  that  Du  Chaillu  saw  the  first  gorilla 
ever  seen  by  a  white  man  his  black  and  savage  attend¬ 
ants  had  assuaged  a  hunger  that  beset  the  party  by 
eating  a  snake.  This  was  more  than  Du  Chaillu 
could  do.  His  account*  reads: 

When  the  snake  was  eaten,  and  I,  the  only  empty-stomached 
individual  of  the  company,  had  sufficiently  reflected  on  the  dis¬ 
advantages  of  being  bred  in  a  Christian  country,  we  began  to  look 
about  the  ruins  of  the  village  near  which  we  sat.  A  degenerate 
kind  of  sugar-cane  was  growing  on  the  very  spot  where  the 
houses  had  formerly  stood,  and  I  made  haste  to  pluck  some  of 
this  and  chew  it  for  the  little  sweetness  it  had.  But,  as  we 
were  plucking,  my  men  perceived  what  instantly  threw  us  all 
into  the  greatest  excitement.  Here  and  there  the  cane  was 
beaten  down,  torn  up  by  the  roots,  and  lying  about  in  fragments 
which  had  evidently  been  chewed. 

I  knew  that  these  were  fresh  tracks  of  the  gorilla,  and  joy 
filled  my  heart.  My  men  looked  at  each  other  in  silence,  and 
muttered  Nguyla ,  which  is  as  much  as  to  say  in  Mpongwe, 
Ngina ,  or,  as  we  say,  gorilla. 

We  followed  these  traces,  and  presently  came  to  the  footprints 
of  the  so-long-desired  animal.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever 
seen  these  footprints,  and  my  sensations  were  indescribable. 
Here  was  I  now,  it  seemed,  on  the  point  of  meeting  face  to  face 
that  monster  of  whose  ferocity,  strength,  and  cunning  the  natives 
had  told  me  so  much;  an  animal  scarce  known  to  the  civilized 
world,  and  which  no  white  man  before  had  hunted.  My  heart 
beat  till  I  feared  its  loud  pulsations  would  alarm  the  gorilla, 
and  my  feelings  were  really  excited  to  a  painful  degree. 

By  the  tracks  it  was  easy  to  know  that  there  must  have  been 
several  gorillas  in  company.  We  prepared  at  once  to  follow 
them. 

The  women  were  terrified,  poor  things,  and  we  left  them  a 
good  escort  of  two  or  three  men  to  take  care  of  them  and  reas¬ 
sure  them.  Then  the  rest  of  us  looked  once  more  carefully 
_ _ _ 

*  Reprinted  through  the  courtesy  of  Harper  &  Bros.,  publishers  of  DuiChaillu’s  book, 
“Equatorial  Africa.” 


194 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

at  our  guns — for  the  gorilla  gives  you  no  time  to  reload,  and  woe 
to  him  whom  he  attacks!  We  were  armed  to  the  teeth.  My 
men  were  remarkably  silent,  for  they  were  going  on  an  expedi¬ 
tion  of  more  than  usual  risk;  for  the  male  gorilla  is  literally  the 
king  of  the  African  forest.  He  and  the  crested  lion  of  Mount 
Atlas  are  the  two  fiercest  and  strongest  beasts  of  this  continent. 
The  lion  of  South  Africa  cannot  compare  with  either  for  strength 
or  courage. 

As  we  left  the  camp,  the  men  and  women  left  behind  crowded 
together,  with  fear  written  on  their  faces.  Miengai,  Makinda, 
and  Ngolai  set  out  in  one  party,  and  myself  and  Yeava  formed 
another,  for  the  hunt.  We  determined  to  keep  near  each  other, 
that  in  emergency  we  might  be  at  hand  to  help  each  other.  And 
for  the  rest,  silence  and  a  sure  aim  were  the  only  cautions  to  be 
given. 

As  we  followed  the  tracks  we  could  easily  see  that  there  were 
four  or  five  of  them;  though  none  appeared  very  large.  We 
saw  where  they  had  run  along  on  all  fours,  the  usual  mode  of 
progression  of  these  animals,  and  where  from  time  to  time  they 
had  seated  themselves  to  chew  the  canes  they  had  borne  off. 
The  chase  began  to  be  very  exciting. 

We  had  agreed  to  return  to  the  women  and  their  guards,  and 
consult  upon  final  operations,  when  we  should  have  discovered 
their  probable  course;  and  this  was  now  done.  To  make  sure 
of  not  alarming  our  prey,  we  moved  the  whole  party  forward  a 
little  way  to  where  some  leafy  huts,  built  by  passing  traders, 
served  for  shelter  and  concealment.  And  having  here  bestowed 
the  women — who  have  a  lively  fear  of  the  terrible  gorilla,  in 
consequence  of  various  stories  current  among  the  tribes,  of 
women  having  been  carried  off  into  the  woods  by  the  fierce 
animal — we  prepared  once  more  to  set  out  in  chase,  this  time 
hopeful  to  catch  a  shot. 

Looking  once  more  to  our  guns,  we  started  off.  I  confess  that 
I  never  was  more  excited  in  my  life.  For  years  I  had  heard  of 
the  terrible  roar  of  the  gorilla,  of  its  vast  strength,  its  fierce 
courage  if,  unhappily,  only  wounded  by  a  shot.  I  knew  that 
we  were  about  to  pit  ourselves  against  an  animal  which  even  the 
tiger  of  these  mountains  fears  and  which,  perhaps,  has  driven 
the  lion  out  c>f  this  territory;  for  the  king  of  beasts,  so  numerous 


HUNTING  GORILLAS 


{ 


i95 

elsewhere  in  Africa,  is  never  met  in  the  land  of  the  gorilla.  Thus 
it  was  with  no  little  emotion  that  I  now  turned  again  toward 
the  prize  at  which  I  had  been  hoping  for  years  to  get  a  shot. 

We  descended  a  hill,  crossed  a  stream  on  a  fallen  log,  and 
presently  approached  some  huge  boulders  of  granite.  Alongside 
of  this  granite  block  lay  an  immense  dead  tree,  and  about  this 
we  saw  many  evidences  of  the  very  recent  presence  of  the  gorillas. 

Our  approach  was  very  cautious.  We  were  divided  into  two 
parties.  Makinda  led  one  and  I  the  other.  We  were  to  sur¬ 
round  the  granite  block  behind  which  Makinda  supposed  the 
gorillas  to  be  hiding.  Guns  cocked  and  in  hand,  we  advanced 
through  the  dense  wood,  which  cast  a  gloom  even  in  midday 
over  the  whole  scene.  I  looked  at  my  men,  and  saw  plainly  that 
they  were  in  even  greater  excitement  than  myself. 

Slowly  we  pressed  on  through  the  dense  brush,  fearing  almost 
to  breathe  for  fear  of  alarming  the  beasts.  Makinda  was  to  go 
to  the  right  of  the  rock,  while  I  took  the  left.  Unfortunately, 
he  circled  it  at  too  great  a  distance.  The  watchful  animal  saw 
him.  Suddenly  I  was  startled  by  a  strange,  discordant,  half 
human,  devilish  cry,  and  beheld  four  young  gorillas  running 
toward  the  deep  forests.  We  fired,  but  hit  nothing.  Then  we 
rushed  on  in  pursuit;  but  they  knew  the  woods  better  than  we. 
Once  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  one  of  the  animals  again,  but  an 
intervening  tree  spoiled  my  mark,  and  I  did  not  fire.  We  ran 
till  we  were  exhausted,  but  in  vain.  The  alert  beasts  made  good 
their  escape.  When  we  could  pursue  no  more,  we  returned 
slowly  to  our  camp,  where  the  women  were  anxiously  expecting  us. 

I  protest  I  felt  almost  like  a  murderer  when  I  saw  the  gorillas 
this  first  time.  As  they  ran — on  their  hind  legs — they  looked 
fearfully  like  hairy  men;  their  heads  down,  their  bodies  inclined 
forward,  their  whole  appearance  like  men  running  for  their  lives. 
Take  with  this  their  awful  cry,  which,  fierce  and  animal  as  it  is, 
has  yet  something  human  in  its  discordance,  and  you  will  cease 
to  wonder  that  the  natives  have  the  wildest  superstitions  about 
these  “wild  men  of  the  woods.” 

Both  Savage  and  Du  Chaillu  and  all  succeeding 
authorities,  including  the  standard  works  on  natural 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


196 

history,  speak  of  the  gorillas  as  among  the  most 
powerful  and  ferocious  animals  on  earth.  And  this 
reputation  is  so  firmly  established  in  the  popular 
mind  that  our  plan  of  taking  ladies  with  no  previous 
hunting  experience  of  any  kind  into  a  gorilla  country 
in  Central  Africa  was  looked  upon  as  madness.  But 
to  the  general  theory  of  the  ferocity  of  wild  animals 
I  have  never  been  a  convert.  And  the  more  I  have 
seen  of  wild  animals  in  Africa  the  less  I  have  believed 
in  their  ferocity.  Consequently,  I  explained  my  creed 
concerning  the  gorillas  in  this  fashion: 

I  believe  that  the  gorilla  is  normally  a  perfectly  amiable  and 
decent  creature.  I  believe  that  if  he  attacks  man  it  is  because 
he  is  being  attacked  or  thinks  that  he  is  being  attacked.  I  be¬ 
lieve  that  he  will  fight  in  self-defense  and  probably  in  defense 
of  his  family;  that  he  will  keep  away  from  a  fight  until  he  is 
frightened  or  driven  into  it.  I  believe  that,  although  the  old 
male  advances  when  a  hunter  is  approaching  a  family  of  gorillas, 
he  will  not  close  in,  if  the  man  involved  has  the  courage  to  stand 
firm.  In  other  words,  his  advance  will  turn  out  to  be  what  is 
usually  called  a  bluff. 

I  believe,  however,  that  the  white  man  who  will  allow  a  gorilla 
to  get  within  ten  feet  of  him  without  shooting  is  a  plain  darn 
fool,  for  certainly  the  average  man  would  have  little  show  in  the 
clutch  of  a  three  or  four  hundred  pound  gorilla. 

My  faith  in  the  general  amiability  and  decency  of  the  gorilla 
is  not  based  on  experience  or  actual  knowledge  of  any  sort,  but 
on  deductions  from  the  observation  of  wild  animals  in  general 
and  more  particularly  of  monkeys.  There  are  few  animals  that 
deliberately  go  into  fight  with  an  unknown  antagonist  or  with  a 
known  antagonist,  for  that  matter,  without  what  seems  to  them  a 
good  reason.  In  other  words,  they  are  not  looking  for  trouble. 

The  lion  will  fight  when  the  maintenance  of  his  dignity  de¬ 
mands  it.  Most  animals  will  fight  only  when  driven  to  it  through 
fear,  either  for  themselves  or  their  young. 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  197 

The  first  living  gorilla  that  I  ever  observed  was  in  the  Zoologi¬ 
cal  Park  in  London  many  years  ago.  It  was  very  young  and 
its  chief  aim  in  life  seemed  a  desire  to  be  loved.  This  has  seemed 
to  be  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  few  live  gorillas  that  I  have 
seen  in  captivity.  They  appear  to  have  an  extremely  affection¬ 
ate  disposition  and  to  be  passionately  fond  of  the  person  most 
closely  associated  with  them;  and  I  think  there  is  no  doubt  that 
John  Daniel,  who  died  in  the  Ringling  Brothers  Circus  in  Madi¬ 
son  Square  Garden  in  the  spring  of  1921,  died  of  a  broken  heart 
because  he  was  separated  from  his  mistress.  I  did  not  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  John  Daniel  alive;  but  in  death  he  certainly 
had  the  appearance  of  anything  but  a  savage  beast.  The 
above  notes  are  here  set  down  for  the  purpose  of  recording  the 
frame  of  mind  with  which  I  am  going  into  the  Kivu  country 
to  study,  photograph,  and  collect  gorillas. 

jf  Going  as  I  am,  equipped  with  motion-picture  cameras  with 
which  one  can  get  motion  pictures  under  most  adverse  condi¬ 
tions,  I  am  led  to  hope  for  something  in  the  way  of  photographs 
of  live  wild  gorillas.  I  hope  that  I  shall  have  the  courage  to  allow 
an  apparently  charging  gorilla  to  come  within  reasonable  dis¬ 
tance  before  shooting.  I  hesitate  to  say  just  what  I  consider  a 
reasonable  distance  at  the  present  moment.  I  shall  feel  very 
gratified  if  I  can  get  a  photograph  at  twenty  feet.  I  should  be 
proud  of  my  nerve  if  I  were  able  to  show  a  photograph  of  him 
at  ten  feet,  but  I  do  not  expect  to  do  this  unless  I  am  at  the 
moment  a  victim  of  suicidal  mania. 


The  rest  of  the  party  had  the  courage  of  my  con¬ 
victions  and  with  these  tenets  we  set  out,  men, 
women,  and  child  to  hunt  the  “ferocious”  gorilla  in 
the  heart  of  Africa. 

While  getting  provisions  and  equipment  in  London 
I  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  able  to  check  up  with 
accuracy  the  location  of  the  gorilla  country.  I  had 
lunch  with  Sir  Northrop  Macmillan  from  Nairobi, 
Kenia  Colony,  Sir  Charles  Ross,  and  Mr.  Grogan,  who 


198  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

twenty-four  years  before  had  walked  alone  from  the 
Cape  to  Cairo — the  first  man  who  ever  made  that  trip. 
Sir  Charles  Ross  had  directions  from  Mr.  T.  Alexander 
Barnes  for  getting  to  the  Kivu  region  where  Barnes 
had  the  year  before  killed  a  gorilla.  Mr.  Grogan 
supplemented  these  directions,  for  in  this  very  region 
on  his  famous  walk  he  had  found  a  gorilla  skull. 
He  knew  the  region  well,  for  he  had  been  stationed  in 
it  during  the  war.  With  this  very  valuable  corrobo¬ 
ration  we  set  sail  for  Cape  Town. 

To  the  Kivu  gorilla  country  from  Cape  Town  is  a 
varied  and  interesting  journey.  It  took  us  about  six 
weeks  of  constant  travelling.  The  journey  from 
Cape  Town  to  Bukama,  where  we  left  the  railroad, 
occupied  seventeen  days  including  stops  which  are 
quite  a  feature  of  South  African  travel.  At  one 
place  we  waited  six  days  for  a  train.  It  is  worth 
notice  that  on  this  entire  railroad  journey  we  did  not 
see  a  single  head  of  game — so  rapidly  has  African  wild 
life  disappeared  in  the  south.  From  Bukama  we 
travelled  on  a  steel  barge  towed  by  a  river  boat  for 
a  five-day  run  down  the  Lualaba  which  is  really  the 
upper  waters  of  the  Congo.  The  boat  ran  along  dur¬ 
ing  the  day  and  tied  up  at  night  so  that  we  missed 
nothing  of  the  beauty  and  interest  of  that  part  of  the 
river's  course.  The  bird  life  was  in  great  profusion. 
Great  trees  hung  over  the  river  and  were  reflected 
from  its  placid  surface  with  almost  perfect  outline 
and  detail.  There  were  a  few  crocodiles  in  sight. 
We  saw  one  hippopotamus  and  once  on  this  trip  we 
saw  elephants  some  distance  from  the  bank. 


A  map  showing  Mr.  Akeley’s  route  to  the  gorilla  country  north  of  Lake  Kivu  and 

its  location  in  Africa 


199 


200 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


At  the  end  of  this  lazy  steamer  trip  we  came  to 
Kabalo  from  which  occasionally  a  train  sets  out  upon 
the  journey  to  Albertville  on  Lake  Tanganyika.  A 
boat  on  the  lake  took  us  from  Albertville  to  Usumbura 
from  which  a  seven  days’  safari  brought  us  to  the 
lower  end  of  Lake  Kivu.  To  get  from  the  bottom 
of  Lake  Kivu  to  the  upper  end,  we  had  to  make  ar¬ 
rangements  for  a  special  trip  of  the  little  government 
boat.  This  we  did  with  the  Belgian  Administrator 
at  Usumbura.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  my  experience 
with  the  administrative  officers  in  these  outposts 
of  the  Belgian  Congo  was  one  of  courtesy  and  effec¬ 
tiveness.  Halfway  up  the  lake  we  stopped  at  the 
White  Friars’  Mission  on  the  west  bank  and  heard 
the  story  of  a  gorilla  recently  killed  in  the  vicinity. 
This  gorilla  had  come  down  into  a  banana  grove  not 
far  from  the  Mission.  The  chief  of  the  village  which 
owned  the  grove  told  his  followers  to  go  out  and 
chase  the  beast  away,  but  not  to  go  armed,  for  the 
beast,  in  the  superstition  of  the  neighbourhood,  had 
some  sacred  attributes.  The  chief’s  subjects  accord¬ 
ingly  went  forth  with  sticks  to  drive  out  the  gorilla, 
but  he  refused  to  be  driven  and  resented  the  disturb¬ 
ance  enough  to  catch  one  of  his  tormentors  and  kill 
him.  After  this  the  chief  thought  the  gorilla  less 
sacred  and  ordered  his  subjects  to  take  their  spears 
with  them  and  kill  the  animal. 

I  was  not  entirely  clear  about  the  veracity  of  this 
tale  nor  whether  it  confirmed  my  theory  about  the 
gorilla  or  the  more  usual  “ferocious”  theory.  If  the 
natives  were  willing  to  go  out  to  chase  the  gorilla 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  201 

away  armed  only  with  sticks,  its  reputation  for  feroc¬ 
ity  could  not  be  great.  On  the  other  hand,  the  con¬ 
fidence  in  the  animal's  harmlessness  seemed  to  have 
been  misplaced.  But  one  fact  did  stand  out.  We 
were  getting  into  the  real  gorilla  country.  That 
quickened  the  blood.  The  next  day  we  went  to  the 
head  of  the  lake. 

A  Belgian  administrator  and  his  wife  who  were  on 
the  boat  with  us  left  us  at  Kissenyi  at  the  northern 
end  of  Lake  Kivu.  They  had  a  three  weeks’  trek 
before  them,  over  the  mountains  to  their  own  home 
and  the  district  over  which  the  administrator  had 
supervision.  They  had  told  us  many  stories  of 
gorillas  in  their  section  of  the  country,  of  the  gorillas 
becoming  so  aggressive  that  they  had  entered  several 
villages  and  driven  out  the  natives,  and  they  had 
urged  us  to  go  with  them,  but  we  stuck  to  our  original 

plan.  . 

Here  at  Kissenyi  was  another  Belgian  station  and 

here  we  met  Mrs.  T.  Alexander  Barnes,  the  wife  of  a 
man  whose  directions  we  had  received  from  Sir 
Charles  Ross.  Barnes  himself  was  in  the  interior 
hunting  gorillas  for  the  British  Museum.  We  sent 
a  note  to  him  because  we  did  not  want  to  interfere 
with  his  hunting,  and  in  the  meanwhile  set  to  work 
to  get  our  porters  and  guides  ready.  We  decided  it 
would  be  best  for  the  women  to  stay  at  Kissenyi  for 
the  time  being  and  for  me  to  push  on  for  the  gorilla 
country.  There  were  two  reasons  for  this  decision. 
Mrs.  Bradley  had  a  little  touch  of  fever  and  it  was 
uot  advisable  for  her  to  leave,  and  secondly,  while  I 


202 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

did  not  believe  much  in  the  danger  to  us  from  the 
gorillas,  I  was  greatly  afraid  that  with  a  large  hunting 
party  there  might  be  equally  little  danger  to  them. 
So  it  was  determined  that  I  should  try  to  insure  the 
Museum  some  specimens  and  if  possible  get  the  first 
moving  pictures  of  live  wild  gorillas  ever  taken. 

It  was  a  three  days’  march  from  Kissenyi  to  the 
White  Friars’  Mission  at  Lulenga  in  the  interior.  This 
Mission  I  found  was  the  base  from  which  Barnes 
operated  and  also,  I  learned,  it  was  the  base  the  Prince 
of  Sweden  had  used.  It  lay  near  the  foot  of  Mt. 
Mikeno  in  a  country  of  volcanic  origin.  The  White 
Friars  themselves  carry  on  here  the  teaching  of  the 
Catholic  religion  to  which  they  add  the  practice  of 
medicine  and  teaching  of  manual  training.  Some 
of  the  friars  have  been  there  as  long  as  seventeen 
years.  At  the  Mission  I  was  supplied  with  a  guide. 
I  went  a  little  way  into  the  woods  and  was  shown 
signs  that  gorillas  had  fed  there  within  a  day  or  two. 
I  was  nervous  and  anxious.  The  long  trip  was  done. 
I  was  actually  in  the  gorilla  country.  I  was  an  al¬ 
ternating  current  of  eagerness  to  go  and  fear  that  I 
should  find  nothing. 

The  latter  mood  prevailed  the  next  morning,  for 
although  I  was  ready  to  start  for  the  bamboos  by 
daylight  my  guides,  who  were  supposed  to  be  in 
camp,  were  nowhere  to  be  found.  I  had  to  send  for 
them,  but  we  did  not  get  started  before  eight. 

We  trailed  up  through  the  forest  into  the  bamboos, 
seeing  signs  of  elephant  and  buffalo — some  of  the 
signs  being  made  the  night  before — and  I  had  to 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  203 

pinch  myself  occasionally  to  bring  about  the  realiza¬ 
tion  that  I  was  not  hunting  elephants  on  a  miniature 
Kenia.  There  was  the  same  vegetation,  except  that 
the  trees  were  smaller.  There  were  elephant  trails, 
but  only  a  few  and  with  small  tracks.  There  were  no 
great  forest  trees  like  those  of  Kenia,  no  bamboos 
seventy-five  feet  high  with  five-inch  stems.  There 
was  just  little  stuff,  but  still  it  was  all  reminiscent  of 
Kenia.  One  thing,  the  slopes  were  just  as  steep  and 
just  as  slippery,  and  the  mud  in  the  level  places  just 

as  deep  and  sticky  as  Kenia’s. 

Through  this  forest  there  are  native  trails  or  game 
trails  almost  everywhere.  We  had  followed  these 
trails  for  about  two  hours  up  the  side  of  Mikeno  when 
we  came  to  a  spot  where  there  was  a  little  mud  hole 
in  the  path.  Til  never  forget  it.  In  that  mud  hole 
were  the  marks  of  four  great  knuckles  where  the 
gorilla  had  placed  his  hand  on  the  ground.  There  is 
no  other  track  like  this  on  earth— there  is  no  other 
hand  in  the  world  so  large.  Nearest  to  it  is  the  hand 
of  the  chimpanzee,  and  he  does  not  place  his  hand  on 
the  ground  in  the  same  way.  As  I  looked  at  that 
track  I  lost  the  faith  on  which  I  had  brought  my  party 
to  Africa.  Instinctively  I  took  my  gun  from  the  gun 
boy.  I  knew  then  the  feeling  Du  Chaillu  described 
in  his  quaint  phrase,  “My  feelings  were  really  excited 
to  a  painful  degree.” 

I  had  more  thrill  from  the  sight  of  this  first  track 
than  from  anything  that  happened  later.  I  forgot 
all  about  Kenia  as  the  guide  took  up  the  trail.  Half 
an  hour  later  we  came  upon  other  tracks,  tracks  made 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


204 

by  the  feet  of  the  beast,  enormous  human-looking 
tracks  showing  the  marks  of  a  heel  which  no  other 
living  thing  in  the  world  but  the  gorilla  and  man  has. 
I  gave  the  boy  back  the  Springfield  and  took  the  big 
.475  elephant  gun.  And  although  the  next  bit  of 
going  was  hard  and  wearing,  I  carried  the  gun  myself 
and  trusted  it  to  no  gun  boy. 

We  followed  the  trail  for  two  hours,  and  I  think  a 
full  half  hour  was  spent  on  all  fours  in  true  story¬ 
book  fashion. 

It  led  us  through  a  clearing  where  bamboo  cutters 
had  been  at  work,  and  we  failed  to  pick  it  up  again 
even  though  I  offered  the  guides  a  king’s  ransom  (in 
their  eyes)  if  they  would  show  me  the  old  boy  before 
dark.  They  were  lackadaisical  about  the  whole 
affair.  I  had  to  give  it  up,  and  as  I  started  for  camp 
I  realized  that  I  was  very  tired.  Then  we  spent  an 
hour  going  straight  up  the  steepest  possible  slope  and 
down  again  following  sounds  that  turned  out  to  be 
made  by  a  troop  of  monkeys.  When  we  reached 
camp  at  three  o’clock  in  the  inevitable  downpour 
of  this  season,  I  was  “all  in.”  The  rain  stopped,  and 
I  called  a  conference  of  the  guides  with  the  result 
that  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  entirely 
useless.  They  did  not  want  to  go  on  at  all.  I  broke 
camp  immediately  and  started  a  two-and-a-half  hour 
march  to  the  Mission  not  knowing  just  what  my  next 
move  would  be — probably  to  hunt  up  some  “bushu 
men”  as  guides.  I  reached  the  Mission  before  sun¬ 
down,  in  the  usual  rain,  and  went  to  bed. 

The  next  morning  I  came  around  to  the  southwest 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  205 

of  Mikeno,  about  three  hours  from  the  Mission,  to 
the  village  of  the  Sultan  of  Burunga  who  came  out  to 
meet  me.  I  explained  my  mission,  and  he  immedi¬ 
ately  brought  forward  from  the  group  of  natives  who 
accompanied  him  two  splendid  fellows  who  he  said 
would  guide  me.  There  was  a  gleam  of  real  hope  in 
the  situation.  We  would  camp  at  Burunga  for  the 
night  and  start  up  the  mountain  in  the  morning.  As 
I  turned  to  go  toward  the  indicated  camping  place, 
a  husky,  handsome  native  came  up  in  breathless  haste, 
and  presented  a  note  of  recommendation  as  gun-bearer 
signed  by  T.  A.  Barnes.  He  was  promptly  engaged 
and  everything  seemed  bright  again. 

I  was  ready  to  start  soon  after  daylight.  I  had 
felt  so  keen  for  the  coming  of  the  light  and  had  hoped 
for  so  much  from  the  new  gun-bearer  and  guides. 
They  had  a  cozy  nest  some  distance  from  camp;  they 
had  seemed  so  enthusiastic  the  day  before  and  had 
promised  an  early  start.  I  waited  and  waited  till 
my  patience  was  exhausted.  I  feared  another  farce 
so  finally  sent  for  them.  They  came  smiling,  con¬ 
fident,  and  keen  to  be  off.  They  insisted  that  no 
porters  could  go — it  would  not  be  possible  to  carry 
cameras  or  any  of  the  scientific  kit  where  they 
were  going.  It  was  up  to  them.  I  had  put  myself 
in  their  hands.  I  wanted  to  at  least  see  a  gorilla. 
I  still  doubted  that  there  could  be  such  a  thing  in 
this  part  of  the  world — even  though  I  had  seen  its 
tracks. 

We  started  down  into  that  deep  chasm  to  the  west 
which  the  camp  overhung,  then  up  to  the  other  side — 


206  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

up  and  up — crawling  and  scrambling,  the  guides 
cutting  a  way  through  the  dense  growth  of  g/eenery, 
beating  down  and  cursing  the  nettles  which  were 
everywhere.  On  and  on  up  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge 
and  then  up  along  the  “hogback”  until  we  were  five 
hundred  feet  above  camp— then  at  a  level  along  the 
western  slope.  I  earnestly  hoped  they  would  go  no 
higher;  it  was  grilling  work.  We  were  overlooking 
another  chasm  with  a  still  higher  ridge  on  the  far  side. 
We  stopped  occasionally  to  scan  the  opposite  side. 
It  was  deathly  still — there  was  rarely  the  slightest 
breeze.  Someone  heard  a  sound  across  the  nullah 
very  slight — but  the  guides  were  suspicious.  We 
went  on,  stopping  now  and  then  to  look  and  listen. 
The  youngest  guide,  a  boy  of  fourteen,  perhaps, 
pointed  to  a  spot  where  he  had  seen  a  movement  of 
the  vegetation.  We  watched  closely  for  five  minutes, 
then  a  great  black  head  slowly  appeared  above  the 
green — rather  indistinct,  but  there  could  be  no  doubt 
as  to  what  it  was. 

It  was  my  first  glimpse  of  a  wild  gorilla.  It  has 
left  an  everlasting  impression,  for  it  was  so  totally  dif¬ 
ferent  from  anything  I  had  expected.  In  a  solid 
wall  of  vivid  green  a  great  scraggly  black  head  rose 
slowly  into  view  where  it  remained  motionless  for 
perhaps  a  half  minute,  giving  me  time  to  view  it  with 
field  glasses  so  that  I  was  able  to  make  out  the  fea¬ 
tures.  I  was  actually  seeing  a  live  wild  gorilla. 
At  the  end  of  a  long  journey  I  was  face  to  face  with 
the  creature  I  sought.  I  took  the  gun  with  slight 
intention  of  chancing  a  shot  at  that  distance  unless 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  207 

there  should  be  opportunity  for  very  careful  and  de¬ 
liberate  aim.  The  shaggy  head  was  withdrawn- 
then  a  glimpse  of  the  great  silvery  back  and  we  saw 
no  more.  We  went  into  the  beastly  chasm  and  up 
again  to  where  he  had  been. 

The  guides  were  too  eager;  I  had  constantly  to  hold 
them  back  while  I  stopped  to  breathe.  We  took  up 
his  trail.  He  led  us  on  to  the  crest  of  that  ridge  and 
then  along  the  “hogback”  till  we  were  about  one 
thousand  feet  above  camp.  Then  as  the  trail  swung 
along  the  other  slope  at  the  level  we  heard  one  short 
roar  ahead  of  us.  The  thrill  of  it!  I  had  actually 
heard  the  roar  of  a  bull  gorilla!  It  seemed  perhaps 
two  hundred  yards  ahead.  I  thought  it  indicated 
alarm  and  that  he  would  lead  us  a  merry  chase.  We 
continued  along  the  trail  slowly,  for  it  led  along  a 
slope  so  steep  that  without  the  rank  vegetation  we 
could  not  have  stuck  on. 

We  had  gone  not  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  from  the  time  we  heard  the  roar,  with  the  gun- 
bearer  just  ahead  and  the  second  gun  and  guides 
behind.  The  gun-bearer  stopped,  looking  up  into 
the  dense  tangle  above  us.  It  was  still  as  death — no 
sound  of  movement  could  I  hear.  The  gun  was  in 
his  left  hand;  with  his  right  he  clung  to  the  bank  just 
beside  him.  Behind  there  was  a  four-inch  tree  be¬ 
tween  me  and  a  straight  drop  of  twenty  feet,  then 
a  slide  of  fifty  feet  to  the  edge  of  a  chasm  more  than 
200  feet  deep.  I  leaned  my  back  against  this  tree  that 
I  might  straighten  up  for  a  better  look.  The  gun- 
bearer  turned  slowly  and  passed  me  the  .475*  As  I 


208 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


took  it  I  heard  that  roar  again — thirty  feet  away, 
almost  directly  above.  One  plunge  and  down  we 
would  all  go  three  hundred  feet  to  the  bottom.  With¬ 
out  the  support  of  the  sapling  at  my  back  it  would 
not  be  humanly  possible  to  fire  the  big  gun  upward 
from  that  trail.  There  was  a  deal  of  comfort  in  the 
feel  of  that  old  gun  even  though  theoretically  I  did 
not  fear  gorillas;  it  had  stood  by  me  in  more  than 
one  close  place.  After  the  roar  there  was  silence 
for  an  instant — not  a  branch  stirred — then  a  crashing 
rush  along  at  a  level,  above  and  past  me — another 
roar — back  again  to  where  he  had  been.  I  had  seen 
nothing  but  a  swaying  of  the  mass  of  vegetation  right 
down  to  our  feet.  He  stopped  where  he  had  been 
at  first.  Silence.  Through  the  green  against  the  sky 
I  seemed  to  make  out  a  denser  mass — the  outline  of 
his  head.  I  aimed  just  below  and  his  fourth  roar 
was  broken  by  the  roar  of  the  .475.  A  terrific  crash¬ 
ing  plunge  of  three  or  four  hundred  pounds  of  beast, 
he  struck  the  trail  eight  feet  from  me.  The  gun  was 
on  him.  There  was  a  soft  nose  in  the  left  barrel  ready 
for  him,  but  it  was  unnecessary.  The  slight  ledge 
of  trail  did  not  stop  him  in  the  least.  He  crashed 
on  down  over  and  over,  almost  straight  downward 
toward  the  edge  of  the  chasm. 

My  heart  sank  for  I  realized  that  if  he  went  to 
the  bottom  I  would  stand  little  chance  of  being 
able  to  recover  him  and  my  first  gorilla  would  have 
been  killed  in  vain.  Overhanging  the  edge  of  the 
chasm  there  was  a  lone  tree,  two  feet  in  diameter, 
and  the  gorilla  in  his  plunge  struck  this  tree,  rolled 


HUNTING  GORILLAS  209 

up  on  its  leaning  trunk,  and  back  again  to  its  base, 
where  he  came  to  rest  with  his  head  hanging  over 
on  one  side  of  the  tree  and  his  feet  on  the  other. 
Had  there  been  a  single  movement  in  him  he  must 
have  gone  on.  The  solid  from  the  right  barrel  had 
done  its  work  well — in  just  above  the  heart  through 
the  seorta,  through  the  spine,  and  out  through  the 
right  shoulder  blade.  As  he  came  crashing  down 
I  somehow  felt  confident  that  all  was  well.  I  have 
never  had  a  more  thrilling  experience,  but  Fve  been 
much  more  frightened  many  times.  The  gun-bearer 
was  a  trump.  He  was  the  worst  scared  black  man 
I  ever  saw.  If  I  looked  as  frightened  as  he,  I  am 
thankful  no  movie  camera  was  on  the  job.  You  see, 
he  was  between  me  and  the  beast  when  he  struck  the 
trail  eight  feet  away. 

I  had  left  the  cameras  and  tools  in  camp  to  be  sent 
for  if  they  were  needed.  As  the  beast  lay,  a  camera 
could  not  be  used.  I  could  do  nothing  in  sketches 
worth  while,  so  I  sent  for  nothing.  I  set  to  work  with 
my  jack-knife  and  one  of  the  boys  had  a  native  iron 
knife  and  with  these  two  tools  we  skinned  and  skele¬ 
tonized  the  gorilla.  As  we  turned  him  over  it  kept 
all  hands  busy  to  avoid  losing  the  balance  of  the  beast 
and  ourselves.  It  took  more  than  a  half  hour  to 
get  the  skin  and  skeleton  back  to  where  I  had  shot 
from — a  human  rope  stunt.  The  boys  all  worked 
beautifully.  Then  we  had  the  long,  hard  trek  back 
to  camp. 

All  hands  in  camp  (forty  odd)  got  a  present — 
enough  so  that  they  were  all  happy,  although  that^ 


210 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

did  not  take  much.  I  was  busy  all  the  following  day 
with  skin  and  skeleton,  making  such  studies  as  were 
possible.  Everything  was  set  for  a  real  hunt  on  the 
next  day,  but  I  could  not  hope  for  a  more  thrilling  and 
dramatic  episode  than  the  taking  of  my  first  gorilla. 


CHAPTER  XII 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO 

THE  day  after  I  shot  my  first  gorilla  on  the 
slopes  of  Mikeno  I  spent  in  camp.  I  should 
have  preferred  to  spend  it  resting,  for  the  day 
before  had  been  a  strenuous  one,  especially  for  a  man 
suffering  from  blood  poisoning,  as  I  was.  I  had  had 
it  for  some  time  and  had  lost  about  twenty  pounds 
during  the  preceding  three  weeks.  This  left  me  in  a 
weakened  condition  and  a  rest  would  have  been  wel¬ 
come.  Had  I  been  hunting  merely  to  kill  I  should 
have  laid  off  a  day.  But  science  is  a  jealous  mistress 
and  takes  little  account  of  a  man’s  feelings.  I  had 
skinned  the  old  gorilla  roughly  in  the  field  the  day 
before.  If  I  wanted  properly  to  preserve  the  speci¬ 
men,  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  I  set  the  Negroes 
at  work  cleaning  the  skeleton,  keeping  an  eye  on  them 
as  I  worked  at  other  things  to  see  that  they  did  not 
lose  any  of  the  bones.  I  had  personally  to  take  care 
of  the  feet,  hands,  and  head.  This  latter  I  set  up 
and  photographed.  Then  I  made  a  death  mask  of 
the  face.  The  brains  and  internal  organs  I  had  to 
preserve  in  formalin.  The  whole  business  was  a  full 
hard  day’s  work.  One  of  the  chief  difficulties  with 
scientific  collecting  is  the  necessity  for  doing  all  the 
skinning,  cleaning,  measuring,  and  preserving  at  once. 


211 


212 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


For  one  man  one  gorilla  properly  attended  to  is  a  full 
day’s  work.  If  a  man  gets  two  or  three  specimens, 
he  has  to  keep  working  night  and  day  until  he  gets 
them  done. 

This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why,  although  great  num¬ 
bers  of  animals  are  shot  in  Africa,  there  is  so  compara¬ 
tively  little  scientific  and  taxidermical  data  about 
them.  This  day  I  was  up  about  daybreak.  I  had 
an  English  breakfast,  most  of  which  had  come  from 
London  with  me — tea,  toast,  marmalade,  and  bacon. 
From  then  until  dark  I  measured  and  skinned  and 
preserved,  and  when  night  came  I  rolled  into  my 
blankets  and  slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion. 

When  daybreak  came  I  was  ready  to  start  again. 
Had  I  felt  certain  of  finding  gorillas  in  that  country 
as  easily  as  I  now  know  they  can  be  found  I  might 
have  waited  a  day.  But  I  had  come  15,000  miles 
to  see  gorillas  and  I  couldn’t  wait  for  the  fulfillment 
of  my  hopes,  nor  did  the  ease  of  finding  my  first  prize 
assure  me  that  I  was  certain  of  getting  the  others  I 
wanted. 

We  set  out  in  the  same  direction  as  on  the  previous 
hunt.  In  the  woods  on  these  mountain  sides  the 
ground  growth  is  extremely  thick,  and  as  high  up  as 
we  went  there  were  no  elephant  or  other  paths.  It 
was  necessary  to  go  through  the  woods.  The  natives’ 
method  of  travelling  is  to  cut  a  trail  as  they  proceed. 
They  used  a  hooked  knife  of  great  effectiveness  with 
which  to  cut  the  undergrowth.  The  stuff  is  thick 
enough  to  impede  one’s  progress,  but  far  worse  than 
that  it  is  filled  with  nettles,  so  that  unless  it  is  cut 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO  213 

out  in  this  way  one  is  constantly  and  unmercifully 
stung.  That  is  bad  enough  for  a  white  man  who  is 
clothed,  but  is  even  worse  for  the  blacks  who  wear 
nothing  to  protect  them.  Nevertheless,  cutting  as 
they  go,  the  natives  make  pretty  good  time,  perhaps 
two  miles  an  hour  up  hill  and  down.  Anyway,  I 
found  that  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  keep  up  with  them; 
weak  as  I  was,  I  had  frequently  to  slow  them  down, 
i  In  this  way  we  had  passed  over  several  ridges  when 
we  came  on  the  trail  of  a  band  of  gorillas.  The  trail 
they  make  is  plain  enough,  for  the  undergrowth  is 
so  thick  that  each  of  the  animals  leaves  a  kind  of 
swath  of  bent  and  broken  greenery.  Their  trail  led 
us  along  the  side  of  a  steep  slope,  so  steep  that  every 
move  had  to  be  made  with  caution.  If  the  gorilla 
was  in  the  habit  of  travelling  either  far  or  fast,  catch¬ 
ing  up  with  him  in  this  country  would  be  a  heart¬ 
breaking  if  not  an  impossible  task.  But  I  believe 
the  gorilla  normally  travels  only  from  three  to  five 
miles  a  day.  He  loafs  along  through  the  forest,  eat¬ 
ing  as  he  goes.  As  the  trail  we  found  was  fresh  it 
was  likely  that  the  gorillas  were  not  far  away.  And 
so  it  turned  out.  We  had  followed  for  perhaps  an 
hour  when  a  dislodged  rock  thundering  down  into 
the  chasm  about  two  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us  gave 
a  clue  to  their  whereabouts,  and  so  we  sat  tight  and 
soon  located  them  by  moving  bushes,  across  a  bit 
of  a  bay  formed  by  a  curve  of  the  ridge.  There  I 
saw  a  big  female  and  very  foolishly  tried  a  shot  with 
the  Springfield.  I  suppose  in  justification  of  my  lack 
of  faith  in  the  thing  it  missed  fire  twice  and  by  the 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


214 

time  1  got  the  big  gun  in  hand  the  female  had  disap¬ 
peared  and  a  big  silver-backed  male  was  in  sight. 

He  was  about  150  yards  away.  He  was  just  disap¬ 
pearing  when  I  got  the  big  gun  to  my  shoulder  and 
I  had  to  shoot  quickly.  I  fired  and  missed.  They 
disappeared,  and  I  fully  appreciated  what  an  ass  I 
had  been.  We  scrambled  on  for  an  hour  more — the 
hillside  becoming  higher  and  more  precipitous  every 
minute.  At  last  a  slight  movement  of  the  bush  above 
made  us  aware  of  their  presence. 

The  fact  that  we  came  up  with  them  again  after 
my  shooting  was  pretty  good  evidence  that  even 
when  disturbed  the  gorilla  does  not  travel  either  far 
or  fast.  The  experience  I  had  had  with  my  first 
gorilla  two  days  before  corroborated  this.  He  had, 
in  fact,  run  only  about  300  yards  after  first  seeing  us 
before  stopping.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  do  not  believe 
that  the  gorilla  can  run  fast.  Unlike  animals  that 
catch  others  for  food,  the  gorilla,  who  eats  vegetation, 
does  not  have  to  run  for  his  dinner.  Neither  does 
he  have  to  run  to  escape  serving  as  dinner  for  some 
other  animals.  His  legs,  compared  to  his  weight, 
are  small  and,  in  relation  to  man's,  very  short.  On 
fair  footing  I  think  the  average  man  could  outrun  a 
gorilla. 

Where  we  came  in  sight  of  this  band  there  was  no 
friendly  tree  to  lean  against  as  there  had  been  in  the 
case  of  the  first  gorilla.  The  hillside  was  so  steep 
that  it  was  difficult  to  find  footing  from  which  to 
shoot.  For  a  slight  sense  of  security  I  entangled 
myself  in  a  bush  and  stood  ready  to  shoot. 


THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI 
Shot  by  Mr.  Bradley 


THE  HEAD  OF  MR.  AKELEY’S  FIRST  GORILLA 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO  215 

There  was  not  the  straight  drop  of  the  other  day 
but  a  steep  slope  which  could  be  done  on  all  fours — 
for  twenty  feet — and  then  straight  down  two  hundred 
feet.  I  got  a  fair  sight  of  an  old  black  female  and  it 
looked  as  though  the  bushes  she  was  in  would  hold  her 
if  I  killed  her  instantly.  She  was  fifty  feet  away.  I 
fired  and  she  came  exactly  as  the  other  one  had — the 
slope  was  so  steep  it  was  practically  a  fall — and 
straight  at  me.  I  tried  to  dodge  but  could  not  as 
the  recoil  of  the  gun  had  caused  me  to  lose  my  balance 
a  bit  and  I  could  not  recover  in  time.  I  threw  myself 
flat,  face  down,  just  in  time  and  she  passed  over  me. 
It  was  so  steep  and  the  mass  of  green  stuff  going  with 
her  so  softened  things  that  I  merely  felt  her — there 
was  no  perceptible  shock,  but  when  1  got  up  I  had  a 
great  welt  on  the  top  of  my  head  which  she  had 
caused.  As  I  partially  rose  there  seemed  to  be  an 
avalanche  of  gorillas.  There  was  a  big  ball  of  black 
fur,  squealing  madly,  rolling  past — actually  touching 
me — in  the  wake  of  the  old  one.  I  took  a  shot  at  it 
as  it  went  over,  and,  by  the  time  I  had  recovered  and 
reloaded,  two  others  that  had  been  close  by  had 
disappeared. 

I  believe  that  to  be  the  fastest  charge  ever  made  by 
a  gorilla  against  man.  I  think  it  was  pushed  home 
with  more  abandon  than  any  other  on  record.  I  am 
almost  certain  of  these  two  statements,  the  particular 
reason  for  my  certainty  being  that  the  gorilla,  when 
she  charged  or  more  correctly  speaking  fell  down 
the  hill,  was  dead  and  she  couldn’t  have  any  of  the 
hesitations  which  I  believe  prevent  such  charges  by 


216  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

live  gorillas.  The  others  followed  her  not  in  anger 
but  in  fear  and  because  they  accepted  her  lead  with¬ 
out  realizing  that  it  was  involuntary.  If  their  charge 
had  been  aimed  at  me  they  had  plenty  of  time  to 
knock  me  off  the  mountain  side  before  I  could  get 
up  and  shoot  again,  and  the  Negroes,  being  armed 
only  with  spears  and  hanging  on  a  precipitous  slope, 
were  almost  as  defenceless. 

I  began  to  feel  a  good  deal  of  confidence  in  my 
theory  that  the  gorilla  is  not  a  ferocious  beast,  al¬ 
though  I  was  gaining  the  utmost  respect  for  his  size 
and  power.  If  being  molested  by  man  would  make 
gorillas  ferocious  and  aggressive,  these  animals  should 
have  been  excessively  dangerous,  for  within  a  very 
short  time  the  Prince  of  Sweden  had  shot  fourteen  of 
them,  and  Barnes  had  killed  several  more.  The 
very  animals  that  I  followed  had  probably  heard  the 
guns  of  these  other  men.  Yet  I  could  see  no  signs 
of  ferocity.  When  I  came  up  with  the  old  male  that 
I  had  killed  first,  he  had  run  back  and  forth  on  the 
hillside  barking  in  protest  or  surprise  at  my  intrusion 
just  as  I  have  seen  little  monkeys  run  back  and  forth 
on  a  limb  and  bark;  but  of  his  having  savage  intentions 
against  me  I  saw  no  sign.  Of  the  two  I  was  the  sav¬ 
age  and  the  aggressor.  In  the  case  of  the  female  I 
had  just  shot,  the  same  was  true,  even  though  she 
was  accompanied  by  her  baby.  She  evidently  pre¬ 
ferred  to  get  away  if  possible.  Cornered,  I  think  and 
hope  she  would  fight  for  her  young. 

What  became  of  the  last  two  animals  I  do  not 
know.  The  black  fur  ball  that  I  had  fired  at  was. 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO  217 

I  believe,  the  four-year-old  son  of  the  old  female. 
He  apparently  caught  on  somewhere,  for  a  half  hour 
later  when  we  were  trying  to  find  a  way  down  we 
came  across  him  and,  as  he  ran  about,  one  of  the  guides 
speared  him.  I  came  up  before  he  was  dead.  There 
was  a  heartbreaking  expression  of  piteous  pleading 
on  his  face.  He  would  have  come  to  my  arms  for 
comfort. 

About  this  time  the  chasm  filled  with  a  fog  so  dense 
that  we  could  not  move  with  safety.  Another  half  hour 
and  the  fog  was  cleared  by  a  heavy  cold  rain  and 
hail  and  we  continued  to  search  for  a  way  down  to 
the  dead  gorilla.  The  Negroes  had  worked  earnestly, 
but  they  gave  up  and  said  it  could  not  be  done.  Poor 
devils,  they  were  stark  naked  in  that  icy  rain;  God 
knows  how  they  lived  through  it.  When  they  gave 
up  they  gave  up  for  good  apparently,  stood  shaking 
with  cold,  making  no  effort  to  find  shelter  from  the 
rain.  I  took  off  my  Burberry  raincoat  and  got  seven 
of  them  under  it  with  me. 

In  such  proximity  to  seven  naked  natives  almost 
all  of  my  senses  were  considerably  oppressed  and  I 
was  grateful  when  the  rain  lessened  so  that  I  might 
put  them  at  a  more  respectful  as  well  as  a  more  com¬ 
fortable  distance.  The  others  had  huddled  under 
an  old  tree  root.  All  came  out  and  we  looked  over 
the  situation.  We  were  on  the  side  of  a  ridge  of 
Mikeno.  Where  we  were  there  was  vegetation  and 
a  fair  foothold.  Below  and  above  us  were  stretches 
of  sheer  rock.  Not  far  from  us  a  little  stream  fell 
off  the  shelf  where  we  were,  in  a  clear  fall  of  200  feet. 


2 1 8 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


The  gorilla  was  somewhere  near  the  bottom  of  that 
fall.  The  natives  insisted  that  it  was  impossible  to 
get  to  the  dead  animal.  To  go  straight  down  was 
impossible.  But  I  felt  that  there  might  be  a  chance 
to  work  along  sideways  in  a  patch  of  vegetation  until 
we  could  get  down  to  a  lower  level.  By  working  back 
and  forth  on  the  face  of  the  mountain  side  in  this  way 
I  hoped  to  reach  the  dead  gorilla.  However,  I  soon 
realized  that  if  I  wanted  to  try  this  somewhat  hazard¬ 
ous  experiment  I  should  have  to  lead  the  way,  for 
the  blacks  had  nothing  greater  than  a  few  days’  wages 
at  stake  while  I  had  one  of  the  prizes  of  a  long  and 
expensive  expedition.  So  I  swung  down  on  the  over¬ 
hanging  roots  of  a  tree  and  began  the  descent  with 
the  natives  following.  It  took  a  surprisingly  long 
time  for  us  to  get  down  the  200  feet,  and  it  finally 
turned  out  that  the  route  that  I  took  led  off  to 
one  side  where  I  could  not  reach  the  gorilla  when  I 
had  descended  to  her  level.  Twenty  or  thirty  feet 
farther  down  I  managed  to  cross  to  the  stream-bed 
and  then  went  up  the  stream  to  the  bottom  of  the 
falls  and  from  there  to  where  the  body  lay.  Where 
the  stream-bed  was  steepest,  we  literally  had  the  water 
falling  on  our  heads  as  we  scrambled  up. 

It  was  a  tough  job  skinning  and  skeletonizing  her. 
In  the  first  place,  I  was  tired  and  she  was  heavy,  and 
in  the  second  place  if  she  was  turned  over  with  any¬ 
thing  but  the  utmost  care  she  was  likely  to  roll  off 
down  into  the  chasm  below.  Nor  could  I  get  much 
assistance  from  the  boys,  for  there  was  only  room 
enough  for  a  man  or  two  to  help.  However,  in  some 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO  219 

manner  we  managed  a  satisfactory  job  in  everything 
but  one  particular.  The  camera  boy  had  come  down 
but  the  tripod  carrier  never  appeared.  If  it  had  been 
an  ordinary  camera  the  loss  of  the  tripod  would  have 
made  little  difference,  but  it  was  the  moving-picture 
camera,  and  a  moving-picture  camera  without  a 
tripod  is  useless. 

It  was  well  past  mid-afternoon  when  the  skin  and 
bones  were  ready  to  move  to  camp. 

As  I  worked  I  had  kept  wondering  how  we  were 
ever  to  get  up  out  of  the  chasm,  especially  with  the 
added  burdens  we  had  acquired.  I  am  still  wonder¬ 
ing  how  we  did  get  out.  The  human  fly  was  no 
more  remarkable  than  those  black  boys.  My  heart 
was  in  my  mouth  for  an  hour  watching  them  work 
their  way  up  the  almost  perpendicular  wall  of  that 
chasm  with  the  skin  and  skeleton.  We  got  to  camp 
just  before  dark  in  a  pouring  rain,  and  I  am  free  to 
confess  that  during  the  last  hour  I  several  times 
doubted  if  I  should  get  in.  It  was  beyond  doubt  the 
toughest  day  I  ever  spent.  Never  again — not  for  all 
the  gorillas  and  museums  in  the  world.  I  spent  the 
next  day  in  camp  working  on  the  two  specimens — the 
female  and  the  baby  that  had  been  speared — and 
finally  had  three  beautiful  gorilla  skins  all  safe  under 
the  fly  of  my  tent.  They  were  so  well  assorted  that 
they  would  make  a  very  satisfactory  group  if  I  got 
no  more.  I  had  death  masks  of  each  and  skeletons 
of  the  two  old  ones;  but  the  four-year-old,  a  vigorous 
young  male,  I  skinned  with  infinite  care  and  pre¬ 
served  the  entire  carcass  with  formalin  and  salt — a 


220  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

precious  anatomical  record  for  sculptural  and  taxi- 
dermic  use. 

The  gun  boys  and  guides  came  the  following 
morning  and  said  they  were  going  home.  It  took 
an  hour,  money,  and  many  promises  to  make  them 
change  their  minds.  Heaven  knows  I  did  not  blame 
them.  I  would  not  do  what  they  had  done  for 
money. 

However,  I  did  not  start  again.  Although  I  had 
worked  one  whole  day  on  the  last  two  gorillas  I  had 
some  things  still  to  do  and  I  felt  that  with  enough 
material  on  hand  for  a  good  group  even  if  I  got  no 
more  I  could  go  a  bit  easier.  So  I  stayed  in  camp 
another  day  and  planned  a  gorilla  hunt  for  the  moving- 
picture  camera.  On  the  side  hills  where  we  had  been 
hunting  there  was  no  possible  hope  of  using  a  camera 
so  I  told  the  boys  if  they  took  me  in  any  such  places 
again  I  would  annihilate  them.  Not  only  would  it 
be  useless  for  the  camera  but  I  felt  that  I  couldn't 
stand  another  such  trip  myself.  So  they  promised 
me  an  easier  route,  and  equipped  with  photographic 
outfit  we  started  off  in  the  direction  of  the  Saddle 
between  Mikeno  and  Karisimbi.  It  seemed  a  very 
stiff  climb  to  me  in  the  beginning,  but  I  have  learned 
since  that  it  was  chiefly  because  of  my  extreme  weak¬ 
ness.  Before  I  had  been  out  an  hour  I  was  sorely 
tempted  to  return  to  camp  and  give  it  up;  but  we 
came  upon  a  fresh  trail  of  a  band  of  gorillas  which 
for  some  reason  or  other  the  guides  followed  only  a 
short  distance,  continuing  on  in  the  same  general 
direction  in  which  we  had  started,  without  any  en- 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO  221 

couragement,  until  it  seemed  that  we  had  gone  to 
the  crest  of  the  Saddle.  There,  as  the  result  of  a 
conference  between  the  guides,  we  started  in  a  south¬ 
erly  direction  intending  to  work  in  a  roundabout 
way  back  to  camp.  Camp  was  the  only  thing  that 
I  was  interested  in,  for  at  this  time  I  was  practi¬ 
cally  “done.” 

Ten  minutes  later  the  guides  ducked,  and  crouch¬ 
ing,  came  back  and  fell  in  behind  me.  I  took  the  gun 
from  the  bearer,  and  looking  over  the  tops  of  the 
greenery  of  a  little  rise  in  front  of  us  I  saw  a  spot  of 
black  fur  perhaps  fifty  yards  ahead.  As  I  crouched, 
waiting  for  a  better  view,  the  animal  I  was  watching 
climbed  up  on  a  nearly  horizontal  branch  of  a  tree 
looking  back  in  my  direction.  In  the  meantime,  the 
motion-picture  camera  had  been  brought  to  my  side. 
I  raised  it  carefully,  put  it  in  position,  and  all  this 
time  another  larger  gorilla  was  making  the  ascent  of 
the  horizontal  branch  of  the  tree.  It  was  apparently 
an  old  mother  and  her  two-year-old  baby.  Almost 
before  I  knew  it  I  was  turning  the  crank  of  the  camera 
on  two  gorillas  in  full  view  with  a  beautiful  setting 
behind  them.  I  do  not  think  at  the  time  that  I 
appreciated  the  fact  that  I  was  doing  a  thing  that 
had  never  been  done  before.  As  I  ground  away,  a 
second  baby  came  scrambling  up  a  near-by  tree. 
The  baby  seemed  very  much  interested  in  the  opera¬ 
tion.  The  mother  professed  indifference  and  a  cer¬ 
tain  amount  of  boredom  and  after  a  bit  pretended  to 
lie  down  on  one  arm  and  go  to  sleep.  The  babies, 
one  of  them  at  least,  seemed  to  be  amused.  He  would 


222  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

stand  up,  fold  his  arms  and  slap  them  against  his 
breast,  which  suggested  uproarious  laughter  on  his 

part. 

When  I  had  turned  off  about  one  hundred  feet  with 
my  heart  in  my  mouth  for  fear  the  thing  would  come 
to  an  end  too  soon,  I  realized  that  I  had  as  much  of 
that  particular  subject  as  I  wanted,  there  being  no 
great  amount  of  movement.  So  I  changed  the  two- 
inch  lens  for  the  six-inch  lens  in  order  to  make  a  “close- 
up.”  When  I  had  taken  about  three  hundred  feet 
I  felt  that  I  would  like  a  change  of  scene;  so  with 
my  hand  on  the  camera  I  stood  up  straight  and 
tried  to  start  a  conversation  with  them.  They  all 
bolted. 

It  was  amazing  what  an  effect  that  minute  or  two  of 
experience  had  on  me  physically.  I  forgot  my  weari¬ 
ness  and  took  up  the  trail.  For  the  next  hour  we  fol¬ 
lowed  them,  getting  glimpses  of  them  frequently. 
There  were  probably  ten  or  twelve  in  the  band,  but 
never  again  did  I  get  the  opportunity  to  photograph 
them — -just  little  glimpses  of  black  fur  dodging  about 
through  the  greenery.  At  one  time  with  my  glasses 
I  watched  them  across  a  ravine  for  a  considerable 
time.  The  old  female  was  lying  down  on  her  back 
yawning  and  stretching,  but  she  was  too  far  away 
for  a  photograph.  So  finally,  feeling  that  I  had  about 
all  I  could  expect  from  that  band,  I  picked  out  one 
that  I  thought  to  be  an  immature  male.  I  shot  and 
killed  it  and  found,  much  to  my  regret,  that  it  was  a 
female.  As  it  turned  out,  however,  she  was  such  a 
splendid  large  specimen  that  the  feeling  of  regret  was 


ADVENTURES  ON  MT.  MIKENO  223 

considerably  lessened.  This  female  had  a  baby 
which  was  hustled  off  by  the  rest  of  the  band.  The 
baby  was  crying  piteously  as  it  went. 

This,  added  to  the  specimens  on  hand,  brought  the 
material  for  the  group  to  one  old  male,  two  females, 
and  a  young  male  of  about  four  years  of  age. 

That  night  as  I  came  into  camp  my  mind  went 
back  to  a  certain  day  eleven  years  before  when  I  was 
hunting  lions  on  the  Uasin  Gishu  Plateau  with  a 
moving-picture  camera.  A  most  wonderful  opportu¬ 
nity  had  then  been  given  me.  Full  in  front  of  me  the 
native  hunters  had  drawn  a  lion’s  charge  and  killed 
the  lion  with  their  spears.  But  the  opportunity  had 
been  as  short-lived  as  it  was  magnificent,  and  the  kind 
of  camera  I  had  then  could  not  be  handled  that 
quickly.  As  I  walked  back  to  camp  that  night,  I 
was  determined  to  make  a  naturalist’s  moving-picture 
camera  that  would  prevent  my  missing  such  a  chance 
if  ever  such  a  one  came  my  way  again.  From  1910 
to  1916  I  worked  on  this  camera  whenever  I  had  a 
minute  to  spare.  By  1917  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
knowing  that  it  was  used  on  observation  planes  des¬ 
tined  for  the  battlefields  of  France.  I  had  myself 
never  had  a  chance  to  try  my  invention,  except  ex¬ 
perimentally,  until  this  trip  to  Africa.  On  this  expe¬ 
dition  I  had  brought  two — a  large  one  for  panorama 
work  and  a  smaller  one  nicknamed  “the  Gorilla”  for 
animal  work.  “The  Gorilla”  had  taken  300  feet  of 
film  of  the  animal  that  had  heretofore  never  been 
taken  alive  in  its  native  wilds  by  any  camera^still  or 
moving.  Few  things  have  given  me  greater  satisfac- 


224  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

tion  than  the  realization  that  the  failure  of  1910  had 
led  directly  to  the  success  of  1921. 

To  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  as  night  came  on 
I  had  a  fire  made  in  the  door  of  my  tent  and  com¬ 
forted  by  its  warmth  I  took  a  little  piece  of  the  end 
of  the  film  and  developed  it.  It  was  all  right.  I 
took  another  sample  from  the  middle.  It,  too,  came 
out  strong.  I  was  satisfied — more  satisfied  than  a 
man  ever  should  be — but  I  revelled  in  the  feeling. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI 

BY  NOVEMBER  14th,  I  felt  about  as  happy 
and  about  as  unhappy  as  I  ever  have  in  my 
f  life.  I  felt  exceedingly  well  about  the  success 
of  my  gorilla  hunts.  I  had  four  fine  specimens  for 
the  group  which  I  intended  to  mount  for  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History  in  New  York,  and  I  had 
several  hundred  feet  of  moving-picture  film  of  live 
gorillas  in  their  native  forests— the  first  photographs 
of  live  wild  gorillas  ever  taken.  I  also  had  the  lever 
and  that  was  what  I  was  unhappy  about.  It  was  not 
only  uncomfortable  but  it  also  threatened  to  in¬ 
terfere  seriously  with  my  plans  and  to  put  me  in 
an  embarrassing  position  with  the  rest  of  the  party. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradley  and  Miss  Miller  were  camped 
at  Kissenyi  two  days’  march  away.  It  had  been 
agreed  that  I  should  investigate  the  gorillas  alone 
first,  but  it  was  not  contemplated  that  I  get  sick 
during  the  investigation  and  not  be  ready  to  provide 
hunting  for  them.  They  had  come  all  the  way  to 
Central  Africa  to  hunt  gorillas  and  the  obligation 
rested  on  me  to  see  that  they  had  that  experience. 
I  was  afraid  that  if  I  did  not  get  them  up  into  the 
gorilla  mountains  quickly,  I  might  not  be  in  shape  to 
fulfil  this  obligation  and  pleasure.  So  I  sent  a  rather 

225 


226 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


urgent  message  that  they  come  up  to  my  camp. 
Solicitation  for  my  health  and  keenness  for  the  hunt 
led  Bradley  and  the  two  ladies  to  make  the  two  days' 
march  in  one. 

This  taking  ladies  to  hunt  gorillas  had  caused  a 
certain  amount  of  adverse  comment  of  two  kinds. 
The  uninitiated  in  African  hunting  censored  me  for 
leading  the  ladies  into  such  terrible  dangers.  The 
initiated,  or  rather  some  of  them,  were  a  little  irri¬ 
tated  with  me  because  if  I  showed  that  ladies  with 
no  previous  hunting  experience  could  hunt  gorillas, 
elephants,  and  lions,  much  of  the  heroics  which  have 
attached  to  African  big-game  hunting  would  begin 
to  wane.  As  a  naturalist  interested  in  preserving 
African  wild  life,  I  was  glad  to  do  anything  that 
might  make  killing  animals  less  attractive. 

I  had  never  been  in  gorilla  country  before  this  trip, 
but  I  had  started  in  with  the  firm  conviction  that 
hunting  gorillas  was  not  dangerous,  or,  of  course,  I 
should  not  have  taken  the  two  ladies  to  hunt  them. 
My  experiences  proved  my  theory  even  more  thor¬ 
oughly  than  I  had  expected.  Consequently,  when 
the  ladies  arrived  I  was  prepared  to  take  them  after 
gorillas  without  the  slightest  misgivings.  After  a 
day  of  rest  at  the  camp  from  which  I  had  hunted, 
we  moved  our  base  a  thousand  feet  higher  up  (to 
about  10,000  feet  above  sea  level)  to  the  Saddle  be¬ 
tween  the  two  mountains,  Mikeno  and  Karisimbi. 
We  had  two  good-sized  tents,  one  for  Mrs.  Bradley 
and  Miss  Miller  and  the  other  for  Bradley  and  me. 
We  had  a  fly  also  for  a  dining  tent.  These  arrange- 


THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI  227 


ments  were  quite  comfortable  except  for  the  cold. 
It  was  about  45  degrees  Fahrenheit  at  night  at  the 
Saddle  Camp.  There  was  an  old  five-gallon  metal 
cask  with  holes  in  it  which  when  filled  with  coals  made 


A  map  showing  the  location  of  the  three  mountains,  Mikeno, 
Karisimbi,  and  Visoke,  on  whose  slopes  the  gorillas  live.  T  hese 
three  peaks  are  to  be  reserved  as  a  sanctuary  where  further 
studies  of  the  gorilla  may  be  made 

a  fair  stove  for  the  women’s  tent,  but  the  men’s  tent 
and  the  mess  tent  gave  one  very  little  feeling  of  the 
tropics,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  we  were  very  near  the 
equator.  But  if  we  were  cold  our  plight  was  not  to 
be  compared  to  the  condition  of  the  porters,  gun- 
bearers,  and  guides.  They  had  little  or  no  clothing 


228 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


and  they  spent  the  night  in  hovels  which  they  con¬ 
structed  in  various  places  around  camp,  the  chief 
characteristic  of  which  was  a  limited  space  which 
insured  crowding  and  a  roof  which  would  keep  off  the 
rain. 

The  first  day  after  we  reached  the  Saddle  Camp 
we  went  on  a  fruitless  hunt  up  and  down  the  slopes  of 
Karisimbi.  With  the  guides  cutting  a  path  as  they 
go,  a  party  does  not  cover  a  great  deal  of  distance  in  a 
day.  Nor  is  there  any  need  for  fast  going,  for  the  go¬ 
rilla  does  not  range  far,  nor  even  when  pursued  does  he 
go  fast.  On  the  other  hand,  even  after  the  guides  have 
cut  a  “path”  the  going  is  sufficiently  difficult  under¬ 
foot  and  so  precipitous  in  these  mountains  that  a 
march  of  five  or  six  miles  is  a  fair  day's  work,  espe¬ 
cially  for  a  sick  man.  We  saw  no  fresh  signs  of  gorilla 
on  this  first  ladies'  hunt.  We  did  run  on  to  a  buffalo 
trail,  but  we  did  not  come  up  to  the  animals,  probably 
because  of  the  fact  that  I  was  not  very  keen  about  it 
as  it  was  very  dense  country  and  not  at  all  the  sort 
of  place  in  which  to  hunt  buffalo  with  ladies. 

The  next  day  we  went  up  the  slopes  of  Karisimbi 
farther  to  the  west.  We  had  not  been  out  of  camp 
more  than  an  hour  and  a  half  when  I  stopped  to 
make  a  panoramic  motion  picture  of  the  wonderfully 
beautiful  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  Just  as  I 
was  about  to  begin  cranking,  a  signal  from  the  guides 
who  had  gone  on  ahead  resulted  in  our  going  quickly 
to  them  where  they  pointed  out  moving  bushes  a  little 
distance  down  the  slope.  We  followed  the  guides 
rapidly  for  a  short  distance,  down  on  our  hands  and 


THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI  229 

knees  and  under  a  mass  of  dense  vegetation,  and  as 
we  got  to  our  feet  on  the  other  side  we  saw  a  huge 
old  silver  back  moving  along  in  plain  sight  about 
twenty-five  yards  away. 

If  the  gorilla  were  as  aggressive  an  animal  as  he  has 
been  credited  with  being,  this  old  fellow  should  have 
charged  that  twenty-five  yards  in  a  few  seconds  and 
given  us  a  chance  to  defend  the  ladies  heroically  from 
threatened  death.  However,  he  didn’t  know  his  part, 
for  it  was  evident  that  his  one  idea  was  to  go  away. 
His  departure  was  interrupted  by  a  shot  from  Bradley 
which  hit  him  in  the  neck.  He  fell  like  a  log.  While 
we  were  congratulating  Bradley  and  before  we  had 
started  for  the  prize,  one  of  the  guides  suddenly 
called  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  gorilla  was 
moving  off.  He  disappeared  from  view.  We  fol¬ 
lowed,  scrambling  along  as  rapidly  as  possible  but 
not  making  very  fast  progress.  But  our  time  was  as 
good  as  the  gorilla’s,  for  we  had  glimpses  of  him  as  he 
went  down  and  up  the  other  side  of  a  gully  to  the  crest 
of  a  ridge  beyond.  As  he  reached  the  top  of  this  ridge 
he  came  into  full  view  perhaps  fifty  yards  from  where 
we  were.  Bradley  fired  again.  This  shot  sent  him  roll¬ 
ing  down  the  slope,  stone  dead.  He  lodged  against  the 
base  of  an  old  tree.  He  was  a  fine  specimen,  a  huge 
creature  weighing  three  hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  I 
believe  that  he  was  the  big  lone  male  of  Karisimbi 
of  which  we  had  been  told.  He  had  unquestionably 
met  white  men  before  because  at  one  time  he  had  been 
badly  wounded  in  the  pelvis,  leaving  a  permanent 
deformation  of  the  pelvic  region  and  a  crook  in  his 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


230 

spine.  Like  all  of  the  others  he  displayed  no  signs  of 
aggressiveness.  He  was  intent  only  on  getting  away* 
He  had  not  made  a  single  sound  at  any  time. 

As  he  lay  at  the  base  of  the  tree,  it  took  all  one’s 
scientific  ardour  to  keep  from  feeling  like  a  murderer. 
He  was  a  magnificent  creature  with  the  face  of  an 
amiable  giant  who  would  do  no  harm  except  perhaps 
in  self-defence  or  in  defense  of  his  friends. 

From  twenty  feet  above  him  on  the  slope  where 
we  settled  down  with  our  kit  to  make  pictures,  notes, 
and  studies,  we  had  a  view  of  Mikeno  and  the  sur¬ 
rounding  country  which  I  then  thought,  and  still 
remember,  as  the  most  beautiful  view  I  have  ever  seen; 
and  I  believe  my  companions,  one  and  all,  quite 
agree  with  me.  The  motion-picture  camera  was 
directly  behind  us  up  the  slope  where  we  had  deserted 
it.  It  was  sent  for  and  a  panorama  was  made  from 
over  the  body  of  the  dead  gorilla.  Mikeno  was  at 
her  best;  she  had  thrown  aside  her  veil  of  cloud;  her 
whole  summit  was  sharply  outlined  against  the  blue 
of  the  tropical  sky.  The  warm  greens  and  browns 
of  the  moss-covered  cliffs  suggested  a  drapery  of 
lovely  oriental  weave.  From  the  summit  well  down 
the  wonderful  line  of  the  western  slope  the  eye  was 
arrested  by  old  Nyamlagira  smouldering  lazily  and 
sending  her  column  of  smoke  and  steam  to  join  the 
hovering  cloudbank  above — then  on  again  the  eye 
swept  over  a  scene  of  marvellous  opalescent  colour 
in  which  were  dimly  seen  distant  mountain  ranges, 
suggestions  of  shimmering  lakes,  and  mysterious 
forests  then  around  to  Chaninagongo,  looming  dark 


THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI  231 

and  massive  in  the  middle  ground,  smouldering,  too, 
but  less  demonstrative  than  her  sister,  Nyamlagira. 
Lying  almost  at  the  foot  of  Chaninagongo  and  to  the 
south,  glistened  in  the  tropical  sun  the  loveliest  of 
African  inland  waters — Lake  Kivu.  Behind  us,  up¬ 
ward  toward  the  summit  of  Karisimbi  and  adown 
the  slopes  in  front,  there  stretched  a  primeval  forest 
of  marvellous  beauty — in  character  unlike  anything 
else  I  know — a  veritable  fairyland — and  at  our  feet 
lay  dead  one  of  its  great  giants. 

I  realized  that  the  search  for  a  background  and  a 
setting  for  the  gorilla  group  was  ended.  We  will  re¬ 
produce  this  scene  on  canvas  as  a  background  for 
the  gorillas  when  they  are  mounted  in  the  Museum. 
The  foreground  will  be  a  reproduction  of  the  old  dead 
tree  with  its  wealth  of  vegetation  in  the  midst  of 
which  the  old  gorilla  died.  Of  course,  it  is  regrettable 
that  we  had  no  painter  with  us  at  the  time.  To  get 
one  there  means  another  long  journey  from  New  York 
to  Central  Africa,  yet  it  will  be  worth  it  if  the  thou¬ 
sands  who  visit  the  Museum  get  even  a  faint  degree  of 
the  satisfaction  from  the  setting  of  the  group  that  we 
got  from  this  view  in  the  gorilla  country. 

I  felt  then,  and  even  more  so  now,  that  that  morn¬ 
ing  represented  the  high  spot  in  my  African  expe¬ 
riences.  In  the  midst  of  a  forest,  a  land  of  beauty,  we 
overlooked  a  scene  incomparable,  a  scene  of  a  world 
in  the  making,  while  our  great  primitive  cousin, 
whose  sanctuary  we  had  invaded,  lay  dead  at  our  feet. 
That  was  the  sad  note.  To  me  the  source  of  greatest 
joy  was  the  fact  that  here,  at  the  culmination  of  a 


a32  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

dream  of  thirty  years,  I  was  not  alone.  There  were 
three  friends  who  keenly  appreciated  all  that  jt 
meant. 

We  had  made  good  in  our  boasted  undertaking  of 
taking  ladies  on  a  real  gorilla  hunt,  presumably  the 
last  word  of  danger  and  adventure  in  the  popular 
mind.  Another  popular  illusion  gone  to  smash!  It 
was  adventure  full  of  beauty  and  charm  and  hard 
work,  but  absolutely  without  danger. 

The  gorilla  is  not  dangerous,  but  he  is  impressive. 
I  have  taken  a  tape  and  measured  around  the  chests 
of  two  good-sized  men  standing  back  to  back.  The 
two  together  measured  three  inches  less  than  Brad¬ 
ley’s  gorilla  alone.  His  chest  unexpanded  was  62 
inches.  He  weighed  about  as  much  as  two  men, 
360  pounds. 

Although  not  so  tall  as  Dempsey,  the  gorilla  weighs 
nearly  twice  as  much,  and  his  arms  are  longer  and 
more  powerful.  But  his  legs,  on  the  other  hand, 
are  much  shorter.  Unquestionably  a  well-developed 
man  can  travel  both  faster  and  farther  than  a 
gorilla. 


One  can  visualize  something  of  his  size  by  a  com- 

parison  of  his  measurements 

with  those 

of  Jack 

Dempsey. 

GORILLA 

DEMPSEY 

Height  .  .  ;  T  t'  t  • 

K  ft.  ih  in. 

6  ft.  i  in. 

Weight  .  .  . . 

260  lbs. 

188  lbs. 

Chest  t 

62  in. 

42  in. 

Upper  arm . . 

18  in. 

16J  in. 

Reach . 

97  in* 

74  in. 

Calf . 

15!  in. 

I5i  in, 

THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI  233 

The  next  morning  we  decided  to  return  to  our  base 
camp  on  Mikeno,  a  thousand  feet  lower  down.  1 
think  we  all  wished  to  stay  at  the  Saddle  Camp  longer 
because  of  the  marvellous  beauty  of  the  place,  but  our 
guides  and  porters  complained  so  bitterly,  and  I  think 
so  justly,  against  the  cold  that  a  decision  was  made 
on  their  account  rather  than  our  own.  The  guides, 
however,  were  not  content  with  their  return  to  the 
Mikeno  Camp,  but  insisted  on  quitting  their  jobs 
entirely.  While  this  was  a  disarrangement  of  our 
plans,  my  appreciation  for  all  they  had  done  and  sym¬ 
pathy  with  their  just  complaints  caused  me  to  pay 
them  off  and  let  them  go.  The  following  day  they 
returned,  a  very  dejected  and  penitent  lot,  and  their 
explanation  for  their  return  was  interesting,  to  say  the 
least.  When  they  reached  home  their  sultan  had  asked 
them  if  my  work  was  finished  and  if  they  had  stayed 
until  I  no  longer  required  them.  They  had  admitted 
that  I  had  given  my  consent  unwillingly.  He  had  told 
them  that  they  must  come  back  to  me  and  stay  until 
the  work  was  finished  and  that  they  must  bring  to 
him  a  report  from  me  of  complete  satisfaction. 

Bradley  and  I  remained  two  days  longer,  and  these 
guides  were  on  the  job  every  minute.  It  was  a  dem¬ 
onstration  of  honour  and  manliness  on  the  part  of 
the  sultan  that  I  have  rarely  seen  equalled  in  a  savage. 

Mrs.  Bradley  and  Miss  Miller  went  to  the  Mission 
Camp,  but  Bradley  and  I  remained  for  two  days  of 
photographing  and  the  cleaning  up  and  the  packing 
of  the  gorilla  material.  The  third  and  last  day  we 
made  the  descent  of  the  mountain,  sending  the  por- 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


234 

ters  ahead  with  their  loads  to  Burunga,  but  retaining 
our  guides  for  another  hunt  in  the  bamboos. 

We  had  descended  well  down  toward  the  lower 
level  of  the  bamboo  when  the  guide  led  us  along  a 
cattle  trail  up  a  ridge  of  Mikeno.  We  came  to  a  track 
of  a  single  old  male  gorilla  on  this  trail,  which,  after 
we  had  followed  it  for  a  half  hour,  had  been  joined 
by  others.  Ultimately  we  were  on  a  perfectly  fresh 
trail  of  a  whole  band.  The  purpose  of  the  hunt  was 
to  get  more  pictures  and  to  add  to  our  series  one 
more  specimen,  a  young  male  if  possible.  At  this 
time  I  had  not  seen  more  than  one  male  with  a  gorilla 
band  and  I  felt  that  a  group  of  two  old  males,  two 
females,  and  a  youngster  of  four  years  would  be 
misleading;  that  if  I  used  them  I  would  have  to 
use  one  of  the  old  males  as  an  intruder  in  the  family 
group.  I  had  to  explain  to  my  gun-bearer  that  we 
must  go  slowly  because  I  did  not  want  to  come  up 
with  the  gorillas  in  jungle  so  dense  that  I  could  not 
photograph  them;  and  that  we  must  try  to  manage 
not  to  disturb  them  until  they  had  come  to  more 
open  country  where  the  chance  for  observation  would 
be  better.  We  were  near  the  edge  of  a  ravine  the 
opposite  slope  of  which  was  cleared  of  bamboo  and 
bush.  I  suggested  to  him  that  if  we  could  possibly 
see  them  in  a  place  like  that,  it  would  enable  us 
to  do  the  things  that  we  wanted  to  do.  Not  that  I 
actually  hoped  for  any  such  luck;  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  fifteen  minutes  later  we  heard  the  bark  of 
a  gorilla.  Peeping  through  the  bush  we  saw  the 
entire  band  on  that  opposite  slope,  all  of  them  in  full 


THE  LONE  MALE  OF  KARISIMBI  235 

view.  There  were  at  least  three  old  males,  I  think 
four,  and  perhaps  a  dozen  females  and  youngsters. 
They,  of  course,  had  seen  us.  They  were  making 
off  toward  the  crest  of  the  opposite  slope  as  fast  as 
possible. 

My  first  thought  was  along  these  lines: 

“Here  is  a  perfectly  peaceful  family  group  includ¬ 
ing  three  or  four  males.  I  could  use  my  two  males 
without  apologies.  There  is  really  no  necessity  for 
killing  another  animaL,, 

So  the  guns  were  put  behind  and  the  camera  pushed 
forward  and  we  had  the  extreme  satisfaction  of  seeing 
that  band  of  gorillas  disappear  over  the  crest  of  the 
opposite  ridge  none  the  worse  for  having  met  with 
white  men  that  morning.  It  was  a  wonderful  finish 
to  a  wonderful  gorilla  hunt.  We  went  on  to  Burunga 
for  the  night  and  the  next  day  we  were  at  the  Mission 
by  noon  where  we  found  Thanksgiving  dinner  waiting 
for  us.  The  chief  mission  of  the  expedition  had  been 
successfully  culminated,  and  all  of  us  were  together 
again  just  in  time  for  a  real  Thanksgiving. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


IS  THE  GORILLA  ALMOST  A  MAN? 

WHEN  Herbert  Bradley  and  I  started  down 
from  Mt.  Mikeno  to  join  the  ladies  of  our 
party  at  the  Mission  of  the  White  Friars  we 
had  the  skeletons,  skins,  and  measurements  of  four 
adult  gorillas  and  the  mummified  carcass  and  skin 
of  a  baby.  I  had  made  death  masks  of  them  all  and 
likewise  some  plaster  casts  of  their  feet  and  hands. 
I  also  had  300  or  400  feet  of  film  showing  wild  gorillas 
in  action,  and  some  general  observations  of  the  goril¬ 
la’s  habits  in  the  mountains  of  the  Lake  Kivu  region 
on  the  eastern  border  of  the  Belgian  Congo  in  Central 
Africa.  I  had  the  material  for  which  I  had  come  to 
Africa — material  sufficient  to  make  a  correct  group 
of  gorillas  for  the  proposed  Roosevelt  African  Hall 
of  the  Museum  of  Natural  History  in  New  York — 
but  I  also  had  a  great  deal  more,  a  vision  of  how  to 
study  this  animal  which  is  man’s  nearest  relative. 

As  soon  as  you  have  anything  to  do  with  the  gorilla 
the  fascination  of  studying  him  begins  to  grow  on 
you  and  you  instinctively  begin  to  speak  of  the 
gorilla  as  “he”  in  a  human  sense,  for  he  is  obviously 
as  well  as  scientifically  akin  to  man. 

I  have  taken  some  pains  in  describing  my  adven¬ 
tures  with  the  gorillas  of  Mikeno  to  show  that  they 

a$6 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN?  237 

were  not  ferocious.  I  do  not  believe  that  they  ever 
are  ferocious,  nor  do  I  believe  that  they  will  ever 
attack  man  except  when  hard  pressed  and  in  self- 
defence.  I  think  I  can  also  explain  why  the  gorilla 
has  his  aggressive  reputation.  I  am  going  to  quote 
one  of  Paul  du  Chaillu’s  adventures*  with  gorillas 
and  in  the  quotation  put  in  brackets  what  Du  Chaillu 
felt,  leaving  outside  the  brackets  what  the  gorilla 
did.  If  you  read  the  tale  as  Du  Chaillu  wrote  it,  it 
gives  an  impression  that  the  gorilla  is  a  terrible  animal. 
If  you  read  merely  what  the  gorilla  did,  you  will 
see  that  he  did  nothing  that  a  domestic  dog  might 
not  have  done  under  the  same  circumstances. 

Then  the  underbrush  swayed  rapidly  just  ahead,  and  presently 
before  us  stood  an  immense  male  gorilla.  He  had  gone  through 
the  jungle  on  his  all-fours;  but  when  he  saw  our  party  he  erected 
himself  and  looked  us  [boldly]  in  the  face.  He  stood  about  a 
dozen  yards  from  us  [and  was  a  sight  I  think  never  to  forget]. 
Nearly  six  feet  high  (he  proved  two  inches  shorter ),  with  immense 
body,  huge  chest,  and  great  muscular  arms,  with  [fiercely 
glaring]  large  deep  gray  eyes  [and  a  hellish  expression  of  face, 
which  seemed  to  me  like  some  nightmare  vision] :  thus  stood  be¬ 
fore  us  this  king  of  the  African  forests. 

He  was  not  afraid  of  us.  He  stood  there,  and  beat  his  breast 
with  his  huge  fists  till  it  resounded  like  an  immense  bass-drum 
[which  is  their  mode  of  offering  defiance];  meantime  giving  vent 
to  roar  after  roar.  .  .  . 

[His  eyes  began  to  flash  fiercer  fire  as]  we  stood  motionless  on 
the  defensive,  and  the  crest  of  short  hair  which  stands  on  his 
forehead  began  to  twitch  rapidly  up  and  down,  while  his  powerful 
teeth  (fangs)  were  shown  as  he  again  sent  forth  a  thunderous 
roar.  [And  now  truly  he  reminded  me  of  nothing  but  some 

-  't '  *  /.V 

Reprinted  through  courtesy  of  Harper  &  Bros.,  publishers  of  Du  Chaillu’s  book, 
“Equatorial  Africa.’* 


238  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

hellish  dream  creature — a  being  of  that  hideous  order,  half  man, 
half  beast,  which  we  find  pictured  by  old  artists  in  some  represen¬ 
tations  of  the  infernal  regions.]  He  advanced  a  few  steps— 
then  stopped  to  utter  that  [hideous]  roar  again — advanced  again, 
and  finally  stopped  when  at  a  distance  of  about  six  yards  from 
us.  And  here,  as  he  began  another  of  his  roars  and  beating  his 
breast  [in  rage],  we  fired,  and  killed  him. 

With  a  groan  [which  had  something  terribly  human  in  it,  and 
yet  was  full  of  brutishness],  it  fell  forward  on  its  face.  The 
body  shook  convulsively  for  a  few  minutes,  the  limbs  moved 
about  in  a  struggling  way,  and  then  all  was  quiet — death  had 
done  its  work,  and  I  had  leisure  to  examine  the  huge  body. 
It  proved  to  be  five  feet  eight  inches  high ,  and  the  muscular  de¬ 
velopment  of  the  arms  and  breast  showed  what  immense 
strength  it  had  possessed. 

These  facts  are  no  doubt  accurate.  Du  Chaillu 
and  his  men  pursued  a  gorilla  in  the  forest.  When 
they  came  too  close  he  roared  at  them.  I  have  seen 
little  monkeys  scold  an  intruder  in  similar  fashion. 
His  face  twitched  and  he  beat  his  breast.  My  motion 
picture  shows  a  gorilla  beating  her  breast  when  not  at 
all  mad.  The  gorilla  advanced  on  them  not  in  a 
ferocious  rush  but  hesitatingly  a  few  steps  at  a  time. 
They  shot  it. 

I  don’t  blame  Du  Chaillu  for  feeling  the  way  he 
did,  for,  under  the  circumstances  in  which  he  hunted 
the  gorilla,  most  people  would  have  had  even  much 
worse  feelings  than  he  had.  Then,  too,  when  Du 
Chaillu  wrote,  tales  of  African  exploration  were 
under  an  unwholesome  pressure  comparable  to  that 
to  which  African  motion  pictures  are  being  sub¬ 
jected  to-day.  I  have  it  on  reliable  authority  that 
Du  Chaillu  was  twice  requested  t/>  revise  his  manu- 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN? 


239 

script  before  his  publishers  considered  it  exciting 
enough  to  be  of  general  interest.  All  I  want  to  point 
out  is  that  the  gorilla  should  be  judged  by  what  he 
does,  not  by  how  the  people  that  hunt  him  feel. 

And  it  is  of  more  importance  to  judge  the  gorilla 
correctly  than  any  other  animal  for  he  is  unquestion¬ 
ably  the  nearest  akin  to  man.  Most  scientists  agree 
that  man  and  the  gorilla  had  common  or  at  any  rate 
similar  ancestors.  Since  that  time  man  has  passed 
through  the  dawn  of  intelligence  and  developed  the 
power  to  reason  and  to  speak.  But  how  he  developed 
these  powers  no  one  knows.  The  gorilla  has  not  these 
powers,  but  he  has  so  many  other  likenesses  to  man 
that  there  is  no  telling  how  near  he  is  to  the  dawn  of 
intelligence. 

In  the  whole  doctrine  of  evolution  there  is  no  one 
subject  more  interesting  or  likely  to  be  more  fruitful 
to  study  than  the  gorilla.  He  presents  most  impor¬ 
tant  opportunities  to  the  students  of  comparative 
anatomy,  to  the  psychologists,  to  the  many  kinds  of 
specialists  in  medicine,  not  to  mention  the  students 
of  natural  history. 

It  is  very  commonly  stated,  in  the  Century  Dic¬ 
tionary  and  Cyclopedia,  for  example,  that  the  gorilla 
“lives  mostly  in  trees.”  Unquestionably  this  is  true 
of  the  chimpanzee  but  I  do  not  think  it  true  of  the 
gorilla.  I  believe  that  he  has  nearly  passed  out  of  the 
arboreal  phase  of  life  and  is  perhaps  entering  the 
upright  phase  and  that  he  is  the  only  animal  except 
man  that  has  achieved  this  distinction.  To  stand  erect 
and  balanced,  an  animal  needs  heels.  The  plaster 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


240 

cast  of  the  gorilla’s  foot  shown  in  the  accompanying 
illustration  is  ocular  evidence  of  what  science  has 
long  known — that  the  gorilla  has  developed  a  heel. 
Moreover,  the  scientists  who  studied  the  body  of 
John  Daniel,  the  young  captive  gorilla  that  died 
in  New  York,  discovered  that,  unlike  any  other 
animal,  the  gorilla  has  the  same  full  complement  of 
foot  muscles  which  enables  man  to  walk  upright.  The 
gorillas  I  saw  in  Africa  always  touched  both  their 
feet  and  hands  to  the  ground  in  running  but  most  of 
the  weight  was  on  their  feet.  Their  legs  are  short, 
their  arms  long,  and  they  carry  the  body  at  an  angle 
of  45  degrees  forward.  They  do  not,  however,  put 
their  hands  down  flat  and  rest  their  full  weight  on 
them.  They  seem  to  be  evolving  toward  a  two- 
legged  animal.  And  if  they  spent  most  of  their  time 
in  trees  they  would  not  have  developed  heels  and  leg 
muscles  for  walking  upright  on  the  ground. 

Not  only  has  the  gorilla  developed  a  heel,  but  his 
big  toe  is  much  nearer  like  man’s  than  that  of  any 
other  animal.  This  may  seem  a  small  matter,  but  a 
big  toe  that  turns  out  from  the  foot  as  a  thumb  does 
from  the  hand  can  grasp  branches  and  is  useful  in 
climbing.  A  big  toe  that  is  parallel  with  the  other 
toes  is  useful  for  walking  but  not  for  climbing. 

But  the  gorilla  has  not  lost  all  his  arboreal  char¬ 
acteristics  by  any  means.  The  length,  size,  and 
strength  of  his  arms  are  evidence  of  the  tree-climbing 
habits  of  his  ancestors.  I  know  that  a  gorilla  can 
now  climb  with  more  ease  than  the  average  man. 
But  I  only  once  saw  gorillas  in  trees  and  that  was 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN?  241 

when  I  was  taking  the  moving  picture  of  a  mother 
and  two  youngsters,  and  an  active  man  could  have 
walked  up  the  inclined  trees  these  gorillas  were  on 
about  as  easily  as  they  did.  Nor  did  I  see  any  evi¬ 
dences  of  their  having  been  in  trees.  The  German, 
Eduard  Reichenow,  who  observed  gorillas  in  this 
same  area,  agrees  that  the  gorilla  is  seldom  in  trees: 

While  travelling,  both  kinds  of  apes  (the  gorilla  and  the 
chimpanzee)  move  on  the  ground;  yet  the  gorilla  is  much  more 
a  stranger  to  tree  living  than  the  chimpanzee.  ...  If  the 
gorilla  climbs  a  tree  in  search  of  food,  he  again  climbs  down 
the  same  trunk.  Also  at  the  approach  of  danger  he  is  not 
capable  of  swinging  himself  from  tree  to  tree  as  the  chimpanzee 
does. 

The  hand  of  the  gorilla  is  as  interesting  to  me  as  his’ 
foot.  If  you  look  at  the  illustration  of  the  plaster  cast 
you  will  see  that  it  looks  much  like  a  man’s,  finger¬ 
nails  and  all.  You  will  see  that  the  fingers  are  bent 
over.  When  running  he  puts  his  knuckles  on  the 
ground.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  gorilla  that  when  his 
arms  are  extended  his  fingers  are  always  bent  over. 
He  can’t  straighten  them  out  except  when  his  wrist 
is  bent.  I  can  take  the  hand  of  the  mummified  baby 
gorilla  when  its  wrist  is  bent  and  put  it  over  a  stick 
and  then  straighten  his  wrist  and  his  fingers  will  close 
over  the  stick  so  that  I  can  lift  him  off  the  ground  and 
hang  him  up  in  this  fashion.  I  suppose  that  this 
peculiar  characteristic  is  a  legacy  of  his  arboreal  life 
which  has  not  left  him  even  in  all  the  years  he  has 
been  developing  heels,  muscles,  and  toes  which  are 
good  for  ground  work  only. 


242  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

I  am  certain  that  these  Central  African  gorillas 
have  practically  abandoned  arboreal  habits.  Whether 
the  gorillas  of  the  lower  country  of  the  west  coast 
have  done  so  likewise  I  do  not  know  from  personal 
observation.  Du  Chaillu  reported  that  they  did  not 
climb  for  food  nor  did  they  make  their  nests  in  trees 

in  that  region. 

It  has  been  so  commonly  reported,  however,  that 
the  Century  Dictionary  states  that  “  gorillas  make  a 
sleeping  place  like  a  hammock  connecting  the  thickly 
leafed  part  of  a  tree  by  means  of  the  long,  tough, 
slender  stems  of  parasitic  plants,  and  line  it  with  the 
broad  dried  fronds  of  palms  or  with  long  grass.  This 
hammock-like  abode  is  constructed  at  different  heights 
from  ten  to  forty  feet  from  the  ground. 

I  cannot  help  believing  that  this  report  arises  from 
a  confysion  with  the  chimpanzee  habits.  The  chim¬ 
panzee  is  not  strong  enough  to  fight  a  leopard.  Con¬ 
sequently,  he  has  to  sleep  out  of  reach  of  this  foe.  The 
gorilla,  on  the  other  hand,  has  no  foe  but  man.  No 
flesh-eating  animal  in  his  territory  is  large  enough  to 
harm  him.  The  gorilla  is  a  vegetarian,  so  he  kills 
no  animals  for  food,  and  he  has  not  progressed 
sufficiently  along  the  paths  of  man  to  enjoy  killing 
as  a  sport.  He  lives  in  amity  with  the  elephants, 
buffalo,  and  all  the  wild  creatures  of  his  neighbour¬ 
hood,  and  in  the  Mikeno  region  the  natives  drive  their 
cattle  into  the  gorilla’s  mountains  in  the  dry  season 
of  the  year  without  molestation. 

Altogether,  then,  as  the  gorilla  has  no  enemies,  he 
has  no  need  to  fashion  himself  a  bed  out  of  harm  s 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN? 


243 

way.  All  the  gorilla  beds  I  saw  were  on  the  ground. 
They  consisted  of  a  pile  of  leaves,  about  what  the 
long  arms  of  a  gorilla  could  pull  together  without 
moving.  I  saw  no  signs  of  their  occupying  these 
hastily  constructed  sleeping  places  more  than  once. 

The  gorilla  makes  no  abode,  has  no  clothes,  uses 
no  tools,  unless  grasping  a  stick  may  indicate  the 
beginnings  of  such  an  idea.  It  is  still  before  the 
dawn  of  intelligence  with  him.  Yet  scientists  tell 
me  that  he  has  the  palate  and  muscles  that  enable 
man  to  talk.  In  spite  of  Mr.  Garner  the  gorilla  can¬ 
not  talk,  but  no  one  knows  how  near  to  it  he  is.  Prob¬ 
ably  he  is  a  very  long  way  from  speech.  Of  course, 
a  parrot  can  be  taught  to  talk,  but  a  parrot  has  no 
brains  to  speak  of,  so  that  his  talking  is  of  no  signi¬ 
ficance.  But  recent  studies  of  the  brain  of  John 
Daniel  seem  to  place  his  brain  about  on  a  par  with 
that  of  a  two-year-old  child.  Now  a  two-year-old 
child  can  both  talk  and  think.  If  the  gorilla  with 
his  child^s  brain  could  learn  to  use  his  voice  even  like 
a  parrot,  we  should  have  come  very  near  to  having 
a  contemporaneous  “missing  link.”  This,  of  course, 
is  very  unlikely  to  happen  and  it  is  not  necessary,  for 
science  can  make  deductions  from  the  gorilla’s  brain, 
muscle,  habits,  etc.,  which  will  enable  us  to  under¬ 
stand  more  of  the  gorilla’s  significance  for  evolution 
without  such  a  spectacular  event  as  his  acquiring 
speech.  I  mention  such  a  thing  merely  as  an  un¬ 
scientific  way  of  trying  to  dramatize  the  importance 
of  the  study  of  the  gorilla. 

Of  course  it  does  not  follow  that  because  the 


244  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

gorilla’s  palate  and  muscles  are  like  man’s  that  he 
will  be  able  to  talk  or  pass  out  of  the  barking  or  roar¬ 
ing  phase.  The  gorilla  has  what  might  be  called 
“roaring  pouches”  that  extend  down  the  side  of  his 
neck.  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  there  is  evidence 
of  these  same  pouches  in  man,  although  they  are 
nearly  atrophied  from  long  disuse.  It  seems,  there¬ 
fore,  that  even  if  the  gorilla  does  not  learn  man’s 
speech,  man  at  one  time  used  the  gorilla’s  roar  or  one 
of  his  own. 

Man  differs  from  most  animals  in  the  amount  of 
variation  in  the  different  members  of  the  species. 
The  skull  measurements  of  half-a-dozen  lions,  for 
example,  will  be  much  more  nearly  uniform  than  the 
skulls  of  half-a-dozen  men.  In  this  particular  the 
gorilla  is  like  man.  Their  skulls  show  great  varia* 
tion.  The  gorilla  skulls  I  brought  back  will  exem¬ 
plify  this.  The  death  masks  of  these  gorillas  show 
another  interesting  thing  which  I  never  noticed  un¬ 
til  I  put  the  masks  of  the  animals  shot  on  Mt.  Mikeno 
in  one  group  and  those  shot  on  Mt.  Karisimbi  in 
another.  The  male  and  female  of  Mikeno  resemble 
each  other  more  nearly  than  either  of  them  do  any 
of  the  Karisimbi  gorillas.  Likewise  the  three  Kari¬ 
simbi  gorillas  have  features  more  alike  than  any  of 
them  are  like  either  of  the  Mikeno  faces.  Whether 
these  are  family  resemblances  or  whether  they  arise 
from  geography,  which  seems  doubtful,  as  the  moun¬ 
tains  merge  in  a  saddle  at  between  10,000  and  11,000 
feet,  or  whether  it  is  accidental  I  do  not  know.  But 
the  fact  suggests  a  line  of  study, 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN?  245 

I  did  not  see  a  gorilla  in  infancy,  but  there  are  two 
interesting  accounts  of  travellers  in  this  region  who 
have  seen  them.  Reichenow  says: 

I  was  successful  on  the  hunt  to  capture  an  animal  only  a  few 
days  old.  It  weighed  only  1  kg.,  therefore  considerably  less 
than  a  newborn  human  child,  while  an  old  gorilla  considerably 
exceeds  an  outgrown  man  in  weight.  The  whole  body  of  the 
little  gorilla  was  sparsely  covered  with  hair  so  that  it  almost 
appeared  naked;  only  on  the  crown  of  its  head  there  arose 
straight  up  a  tuft  of  long  brown  hairs.  This  manner  of  hair 
growth  gave  the  little  ape  a  particularly  human  appearance. 

When  one  saw  the  little  being,  which  flourished  beautifully 
at  the  breast  of  a  Negro  nurse,  in  its  helplessness,  one  had  to 
become  convinced  that  the  gorilla  nursling  needs  the  greatest 
care  and  attention  on  the  part  of  its  mother.  On  the  soft  high 
bed  the  mother  can  well  cover  with  her  body  the  tiny  young  one 
which  is  in  great  need  of  warmth,  without  its  running  a  chance  of 
being  crushed  by  her  heavy  body. 

Late  in  1919  I  received  a  letter  from  an  English 
hunter,  Mr.  C.  D.  Foster,  which  contained  the  follow¬ 
ing  paragraphs  concerning  a  gorilla  hunt  on  Mt. 
Mikeno: 

I  noticed  that  the  nearest  gorilla  was  holding  a  very  small  one 
in  her  arms.  I  shot  and  wounded  her  and  she  came  toward 
me  still  holding  the  young  one.  I  shot  again  and  she  dropped. 
The  rest,  by  this  time,  were  just  disappearing,  and  having  shot 
two  good  specimens  I  did  not  try  to  follow  them. 

I  approached  the  female  gorilla  and  found  her  lying  stomach 
down  resting  on  her  elbows  and  still  clasping  the  young  one. 
She  was  evidently  nearly  dead  and  I  took  a  photo  of  her  in  this 
position.  I  then  waited  for  her  to  die  which  she  did  within  a  few 
minutes,  so  I  went  up  to  her  and  took  away  the  baby  gorilla 
which  was  quite  uninjured  and  apparently  was  not  more  than 
24  hours  old.  .  .  *  The  baby  gorilla  (a  female)  is  now  two 


246  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

months  old  and  in  the  best  of  health  and  weighs  nine  pounds. 
She  has  cut  six  teeth  and  the  only  ailment  she  has  had  was  a 
cold  which  she  evidently  caught  from  me  and  which  she  recovered 
from  very  quickly.  She  does  not  show  any  signs  of  walking 
yet  and  up  till  now  I  have  fed  her  entirely  on  cow  s  and  goat  s 
milk  and  occasionally,  when  fresh  milk  was  unobtainable,  on 
canned  milk. 

P.  S.  Since  writing  the  above,  which  has  been  unavoidably 
delayed  in  mailing,  the  young  one  which  I  mentioned  has  died, 
at  the  time  of  her  death  she  was  just  over  three  months  old. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  in  this  account 
of  Foster's  is  the  fact  that  the  baby  gorilla  caught 
cold  from  him.  Animals  usually  do  not  catch  man  s 
diseases.  Seemingly  the  gorilla  is  near  enough  man 
to  contract  at  least  some  of  them.  Probably  he  is  not 
immunized  against  any  contagious  diseases.  This 
free-of-disease  state,  if  it  exists,  will  make  him  a  unique 
pathological  study.  And  certainly  the  gorilla  differs 
from  other  animals  in  his  freedom  from  parasitical 
disease.  I  did  not  have  an  opportunity  to  study  him 
with  a  microscope,  but  he  is  the  only  wild  animal  in 
Africa  that  I  have  ever  skinned  and  cut  up  for  scien¬ 
tific  purposes  that  had  no  visible  signs  of  parasites  on 
him  or  in  him. 

Reichenow  also  has  made  some  deductions  about 
the  family  life  of  gorillas  in  the  Mikeno  region  which 
are  interesting.  “The  sleeping  plans  of  the  members 
of  a  gorilla  company,"  he  says,  “do  not  lie  irregularly 
near  each  other  but  we  find  them  joined  in  groups  of 
two,  three,  or  four,  which  lets  us  clearly  recognize  that 
within  the  herd  there  exists  a  division  according  to 
families.  The  nests  of  a  family  lie  close  to  each  other. 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN?  247 

and  are  from  eight  to  fifteen  meters  away  from  the 
neighbouring  group,  so  that  the  various  groups 
seemed  closed  off  from  each  other  by  the  thick  riot 
of  plants,  like  various  dwellings.  From  the  size  of 
the  nests  we  see  that  always  only  two  of  them  belong 
to  adult  animals;  if  there  are  more  nests  present,  these 
are  always  smaller  and  therefore  belong  to  the  half- 
grown  young.  From  this  observation  we  get  the 
noteworthy  fact  that  the  gorilla  lives  in  monogamy.” 

I  cannot  say  that  my  observations  corroborate 
this  deduction.  In  one  of  the  bands  I  saw  there  were 
three  adult  males.  They  might  under  his  theory 
have  been  heads  of  three  families.  But  in  the  other 
band  there  was  but  one  male  and  several  females. 
The  extra  females  may  have  been  spinster  aunts  of 
the  family,  but  on  the  other  hand,  it  might  just  as 
well  have  been  a  case  of  polygamy.  The  truth  is 
that  people  know  little  about  the  habits  of  the  gorilla. 
Really  to  know  about  an  animal  requires  long  and 
intimate  study.  Comparatively  few  people  have 
even  shot  gorillas.  Gorilla  skeletons,  even,  have  not 
been  common  for  study  like  those  of  other  animals. 
The  avidity  with  which  the  doctors  of  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons  in  New  York  seized  upon 
the  body  of  John  Daniel  shows  both  how  rare  and  how 
important  the  opportunity  to  study  the  gorilla  is  to 
the  science  of  medicine  as  well  as  to  that  of  compara¬ 
tive  anatomy.  And  even  less  of  study  has  been  given 
the  gorilla’s  living  habits  than  has  been  devoted  to 
his  dead  body  and  bones.  Most  of  the  information 
which  man  can  get  of  and  from  this  nearest  relative 


248  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

in  the  animal  kingdom  is  still  to  be  had.  But  unless 
some  measures  are  quickly  taken  to  get  this  informa¬ 
tion,  the  opportunity  will  be  lost.  The  gorilla  is  on  his 
way  to  extinction.  He  is  not  particularly  numerous. 
He  is  neither  wary  nor  dangerous.  He  is  an  easy 
and  highly  prized  prey  to  the  “sporting”  instinct.. 

As  I  travelled  down  from  Mikeno  toward  the  White 
Friars’  Mission  the  fascinating  possibilities  of  the 
study  of  the  gorilla  and  its  immense  scientific  im¬ 
portance  filled  my  mind  along  with  the  fear  that  his 
extinction  would  come  before  adequate  study  was 
made.  These  considerations  materially  led  my  mind 
to  the  idea  of  a  gorilla  sanctuary;  and  I  realized 
that  a  better  place  than  the  one  I  had  just  left 
could  hardly  be  hoped  for.  The  three  mountains, 
Mikeno,  Karisimbi,  and  Visoke  stand  up  in  a  tri¬ 
angle  by  themselves.  Their  peaks  are  about  four 
miles  apart.  On  the  slopes  of  these  mountains,  in 
the  bamboos  and  in  the  dense  forest,  there  are  several 
bands  of  gorillas.  I  judge  that  there  are  between 
fifty  and  one  hundred  animals  altogether.  In  all 
probability  the  animals  in  this  region  stay  on  these 
three  mountains.  Such  is  the  belief  of  the  natives, 
and  it  is  a  reasonable  belief  because  if  they  left 
these  peaks  they  would  have  to  travel  very  consider¬ 
able  distances  to  find  similar  security  and  food  sup¬ 
plies  elsewhere.  This  being  true  the  three  peaks 
can  become  a  gorilla  sanctuary  by  the  simple  expedi¬ 
ent  of  preventing  hunters  from  invading  them. 

It  has  been  proved  over  and  over  again  that  animals 
very  quickly  learn  to  remain  in  places  where  they  are 


GORILLA  ALMOST  MAN?  249 

safe  from  hunting.  Likewise  in  those  places  animals 
soon  learn  to  accept  man  without  fear  just  as  they  do 
other  animals.  The  case  of  the  bears  in  the  Yellow¬ 
stone  Park  is  known  to  everyone.  At  Banff,  in  the 
Canadian  Rockies,  protection  has  led  even  so  shy 
an  animal  as  the  mountain  sheep  to  accept  man 
enough  to  be  photographed  at  short  distances.  Were 
the  gorillas  on  the  three  peaks  protected  I  am  certain 
that  in  a  very  short  time  they  would  become  so  ac¬ 
customed  to  man  that  they  could  be  studied  in  their 
native  surroundings  in  a  way  that  would  rapidly 
produce  most  interesting  and  important  scientific 

results. 

This  sanctuary  would  not  interfere  with  any  other 
activity  in  the  country.  The  gorilla  range  is  not  fit 
for  agriculture.  The  natives  use  it  now  as  a  source 
for  firewood  and  a  grazing  ground  for  their  cattle. 
It  could  continue  to  be  put  to  these  uses  as  far  as  the 
gorillas  would  be  concerned.  Elephants,  buffaloes, 
and  other  animals  might  flock  into  the  sanctuary 
30  as  to  become  something  of  a  problem,  but  their 
numbers  could  be  kept  down  without  disturbing  the 

gorillas*  sense  of  security. 

To  create  this  sanctuary  would  be  comparatively 
easy  and  inexpensive.  I  think  it  would  require  first 
of  all  that  the  sanctuary  be  bounded  by  a  road.  I 
do  not  think  it  would  be  necessary  to  fence  the 
sanctuary  for  I  believe  the  gorillas  would  stay  inside 
its  limits.  The  road  would  be  chiefly  for  police  pur¬ 
poses  to  make  it  easier  to  be  sure  that  hunters  stayed 
outside.  The  policing  of  the  road  could  be  done  by 


250  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

the  natives.  As  the  pay  of  such  a  policeman  is  about 
five  cents  a  day,  the  maintenance  of  the  force  is  not 
a  great  matter. 

Besides  the  road  and  the  police  the  sanctuary 
would  need  a  few  trails  and  a  station  to  consist  of  a 
residence  for  a  white  director  of  the  sanctuary,  living 
quarters  for  the  scientists,  enough  servants  to  keep 
the  station  going,  and  a  simple  field  laboratory. 
Neither  the  building  nor  maintenance  for  such  an 
institution  would  be  expensive  in  Central  Africa.  I 
know  of  no  other  effort  of  so  moderate  a  size  likely  to 
lead  to  such  immediate  and  valuable  scientific  results. 
Moreover,  if  the  study  of  the  gorilla  is  not  made  in 
some  such  way  as  this  now,  it  is  not  likely  that  it  will 
ever  be  made  at  all.  If  three  more  gentlemen  like 
the  Prince  of  Sweden  go  into  the  Mikeno  region  there 
will  be  no  gorillas  left  there.  Gorillas  were  origi¬ 
nally  discovered  on  the  west  coast  and  they  have  been 
reported  at  various  places  across  Central  Africa  from 
the  west  coast  to  the  Mikeno  region,  but  in  no  region 
are  they  numerous;  and  if  they  should  succeed  the 
lion  and  the  elephant  as  the  “correct”  thing  to  shoot, 
their  extinction  would  be  but  a  matter  of  a  very  few 
years. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  very  few  years  of  study  by  a 
succession  of  scientific  men  from  the  best  institutions 
would  unquestionably  produce  far-reaching  results. 


CHAPTER  XV 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL - A  RECORD  FOR  THE 

FUTURE 

I  HAVE  dreamt  many  dreams.  Some  of  them 
have  been  forgotten.  Others  have  taken  con¬ 
crete  shape  and  become  pleasing  or  hateful  to  me 
in  varying  degree.  But  one  especially  has  dwelt  with 
me  through  the  years,  gradually  shaping  itself  into  a 
commanding  plan.  It  has  become  the  inspiration  and 
the  unifying  purpose  of  my  work;  all  my  efforts  during 
recent  years  have  bent  toward  the  accomplishment 
of  this  single  objective — the  creation  of  a  great  African 
Hall  which  shall  be  called  Roosevelt  African  Hall. 

I  have  always  been  convinced  that  the  new  meth¬ 
ods  of  taxidermy  are  not  being  used  to  the  full;  that, 
although  the  taxidermic  process  has  been  raised  to  an 
artistic  plane,  a  great  opportunity  still  remains  for 
its  more  significant  and  comprehensive  use  in  the 
creation  of  a  great  masterpiece  of  museum  exhibition. 
Then,  too,  I  have  been  constantly  aware  of  the  rapid 
and  disconcerting  disappearance  of  African  wild 
life.  And  I  suppose  that  those  two  considerations 
gave  rise  to  the  vision  of  the  culmination  of  my  work 
in  a  great  museum  exhibit,  artistically  conceived, 
which  should  perpetuate  the  animal  life,  the  native 
customs,  and  the  scenic  beauties  of  Africa. 

251 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


252 

When  I  returned  to  America  in  1911,  my  mind 
saturated  with  the  beauty  and  the  wonder  of  the 
continent  I  had  left,  I  was  dreaming  of  African  HalL 
One  year  later  my  ideas  were  sufficiently  defined 
to  be  laid  before  Professor  Henry  Fairfield  Osborn, 
President  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History,  who  approved  my  plans  and  asked  that  they 
be  presented  to  the  Trustees  of  the  Museum.  The 
plan  that  I  proposed  to  the  Trustees  provided  for  a 
great  hall  devoted  entirely  to  Africa,  which  should 
put  in  permanent  and  artistic  form  a  satisfying  record 
of  fast-disappearing  fauna  and  give  a  comprehensive 
view  of  the  topography  of  the  continent  by  means  of 
a  series  of  groups  constructed  in  the  best  museum 
technique.  Neither  in  this  nor  in  any  other  country 
has  such  an  exhibit  been  attempted.  Not  only 
would  the  proposed  hall  preserve  a  unique  record  of 
African  wild  life,  but  it  would  also  establish  a  stand¬ 
ard  for  museum  exhibition  in  the  future. 

The  Trustees  approved  my  plan  for  immediate 
execution;  the  undertaking  was  to  go  forward  as 
rapidly  as  funds  were  available.  One  of  the  old 
North  American  mammal  halls,  rechristened  the 
‘‘elephant  studio/'  because  there  the  mounting  of  the 
elephant  group  was  already  under  way,  was  retained 
for  my  use  and  there,  to  crystallize  my  conception,  I 
made  a  model  of  the  African  Hall.  This  model  repre¬ 
sents  a  great  unobstructed  hall,  in  the  centre  of  which 
stands  a  statuesque  group  of  four  African  elephants 
with  a  group  of  rhinos  at  either  end.  Both  on  the 
ground  floor  and  in  the  gallery,  with  windows  seeming 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL  253 

to  open  upon  them,  are  arranged  habitat  groups  of 
the  African  fauna  with  typical  accessories  and  pan¬ 
oramic  backgrounds.  The  long  and  arduous  task  of 
mounting  the  central  elephant  group,  the  first  unit 
for  the  exhibit  which  the  model  sketched  in  miniature, 

was  interrupted  by  the  war. 

Many  of  the  undertakings  that  were  making  long 
strides  toward  completion  in  1914,  to-day  stand  ar¬ 
rested  due  to  conditions  following  the  war.  Only 
one  by  one  can  they  fall  back  to  their  natural  places 
in  the  march  of  progress,  and  the  most  urgent  must 
be  given  place  first.  African  Hall  is  one  of  those 
projects  which  cannot  be  delayed.  Now  or  never 
must  it  become  a  reality.  Twenty-five  years  ago, 
with  innumerable  specimens  at  hand,  its  development 
would  have  been  an  impossibility.  Even  if  a  man 
had  had  all  the  animals  he  wanted  from  Africa,  he 
could  not  have  made  an  exhibit  of  them  that  would 
have  been  either  scientific,  natural,  artistic,  or  satisfy¬ 
ing,  for  twenty-five  years  ago  the  art  of  taxidermy 
and  of  museum  exposition  of  animal  life  hardly  ex¬ 
isted.  Likewise,  in  those  days  much  of  the  informa¬ 
tion  that  we  had  about  animals  through  the  tales  of 
explorers,  collectors,  and  other  would-be  heroes  was 
ninety-five  per  cent,  inaccurate. 

Twenty-five  years  hence  the  development  of  such 
a  hall  will  be  equally  impossible  for  the  African  ani¬ 
mals  are  so  rapidly  becoming  extinct  that  the  proper 
specimens  will  not  then  be  available.  Even  to-day 
the  heads  that  are  reaching  London  from  British 
East  Africa  are  not  up  to  the  old  standards.  If  an 


254  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

African  Hall  is  to  be  done  at  all,  it  must  be  done  now. 
And  even  if  it  is  done  now,  we  must  have  men  to  do 
it  who  have  known  Africa  for  at  least  a  quarter  of  a 
century.  Africa  to-day  is  a  modern  Africa,  the 
Africa  of  the  Age  of  Man.  Africa  then  was  still  the 
Africa  of  the  Age  of  Mammals,  a  country  sufficiently 
untouched  by  civilization  to  give  a  vivid  impression 
of  Africa  a  hundred  years  ago.  By  the  time  the 
groups  are  in  place  in  African  Hall,  some  of  the  species 
represented  will  have  disappeared.  Naturalists  and 
scientists  two  hundred  years  from  now  will  find  there 
the  only  existent  record  of  some  of  the  animals  which 
to-day  we  are  able  to  photograph  and  to  study  in 
the  forest  environment.  African  Hall  will  tell  the 
story  of  jungle  peace,  a  story  that  is  sincere  and  faith¬ 
ful  to  the  African  beasts  as  I  have  known  them,  and  it 
will,  I  hope,  tell  that  story  so  convincingly  that  the 
traditions  of  jungle  horrors  and  impenetrable  forests 
may  be  obliterated. 

With  all  haste,  when  the  war  was  over,  I  turned 
again  to  African  Hall — to  Roosevelt  African  Hall,  for 
naturally  after  the  death  of  that  great  American  who 
so  deeply  desired  to  bring  to  the  world  a  knowledge  of 
beautiful  Africa  and  who  had  himself  shot  the  old 
cow  for  the  elephant  group,  we  gave  the  proposed 
hall  his  name.  The  thought  that  my  greatest  under¬ 
taking  was  to  stand  as  a  memorial  to  Theodore 
Roosevelt  doubled  my  incentive.  I  am  giving  the 
best  there  is  in  me  to  make  Roosevelt  African  Hall 
worthy  of  the  name  it  bears. 

The  structure  itself  will  be  of  imposing  dimensions. 


MS 


main 


256  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

A  spacious  open  hall  will  occupy  the  central  portion 
of  the  building.  As  I  have  planned  it,  the  floor 
measurement  of  this  great  open  space  is  sixty  by  one 
hundred  and  fifty-two  feet;  the  height  to  the  gallery 
at  the  sides  is  seventeen  feet  and  that  over  the  centre 
to  the  ceiling,  thirty  feet.  Its  floor  space  will  be 
encroached  upon  only  at  the  corners  by  the  elevators; 
that  is,  the  actual  open  floor  space  without  columns 
or  any  obstruction  whatever  will  be  sixty  by  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  feet.  In  the  centre  of  this  large 
hall  will  stand  the  group  of  four  African  elephants 
treated  in  statuesque  fashion,  mounted  on  a  four-foot 
base  with  no  covering  of  glass.  At  one  end  of  the 
elephants,  the  group  of  black  rhinoceros  will  be 
placed;  at  the  other  end,  the  white  rhinoceros.  As  a 
result  of  late  developments  in  the  technique  of  taxi¬ 
dermy,  we  are  able  to  treat  these  pachyderms  so  that 
they  will  not  suffer  because  of  lack  of  protection 
under  glass.  Changing  atmospheric  conditions  will 
have  no  effect  upon  them  and  they  can  receive  es¬ 
sentially  the  care  given  to  bronzes. 

Since  the  elephant  is  the  largest  land  mammal 
in  the  world  to-day  and  one  of  the  most  splendid  of 
all  animals  of  the  past  or  present,  and  especially  since 
it  is  typical  of  Africa,  it  is  fitting  that  the  elephant 
should  dominate  this  hall.  Except  for  bronzes  at 
either  end  facing  the  main  entrances,  there  will  be 
nothing  in  the  central  open  space  to  detract  from, 
the  majesty  of  the  elephants  and  the  lumbering  bulk 
of  the  rhinos.  Visitors,  pausing  to  study  the  ele¬ 
phants,  may  look  out  on  either  side  as  though  through 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL  *57 

open  windows  into  an  African  out-of-doors,  for  the 
other  great  animals  of  the  continent  in  their  natural 
environment  of  forest,  plain,  river,  or  mountain,  will 
surround  the  central  hall.  The  position  of  these 
habitat  groups  in  a  kind  of  annex  has  a  double  ad¬ 
vantage:  it  permits  them  to  be  carefully  protected 
against  atmospheric  conditions  and  prevents  any 
infringement  upon  the  measurements  of  the  hall 
proper.  There  will  be  forty  of  these  realistic  groups 
— twenty  viewed  from  the  main  floor  and  twenty 
more,  similarly  executed,  but  displaying  the  smaller 

animals,  viewed  from  the  gallery. 

The  forty  canvases  used  as  backgrounds  will  be 
painted  by  the  best  artists  available.  Each  will 
be  an  accurate  portrayal  of  a  definite  type  of  African 
scenery,  usually  showing  some  feature  of  importance 
— Mt.  Kenia  on  the  equator,  the  waterless  plains  of 
Somaliland,  or  the  gorilla  forests  of  the  Kivu  country. 
Together  they  will  give  a  comprehensive  idea  of  the 
geographical  aspect  of  Africa  from  the  Mediterranean 
on  the  north  to  Table  Mountain  at  Cape  Town,  and 
from  the  east  coast  to  the  west  coast. 

The  mounted  specimens  in  the  foreground  will 
combine  to  represent  in  the  most  comprehensive  way 
the  animal  life  of  the  continent.  These  groups 
will  be  composite — that  is,  as  many  species  will  be 
associated  in  each  of  them  as  is  consistent  with 
scientific  fact.  For  example,  one  of  the  large  cor¬ 
ner  groups  will  represent  a  scene  on  the  equatorial 
river  Tana,  showing  perhaps  all  told  a  dozen  spoties 
in  their  natural  surroundings  with  stories  of  the  anb 


258  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

irials  and  a  correct  representation  of  the  flora.  In 
the  foreground  on  a  sandbar  in  the  river  will  be  a 
group  of  hippos;  across  the  stream  and  merging  into 
the  painted  background,  a  group  of  impalla  come 
down  to  water;  in  the  trees  and  on  the  sandbars  of 
the  farther  bank  two  species  of  monkeys  common  to  the 
region;  a  crocodile  and  turtles  basking  in  the  sun  near 
the  hippos,  and  a  few  characteristic  birds  in  the  trees. 

Another  of  these  large  corner  groups  will  be  a 
scene  of  the  plains,  a  rock  kopje  with  characteristic 
animals  such  as  the  klipspringer,  hyrax,  Chanter’s 
reedbuck,  and  baboons  on  the  rocks,  the  background 
leading  off  across  the  plain  showing  a  herd  of  plains 
animals — and  the  adjoining  group  continuing  the 
story  by  showing  more  of  the  species  of  the  plains. 
The  third  of  the  large  corner  groups  will  represent 
a  Congo  forest  scene  with  the  okapi  and  chimpanzee 
perhaps,  and  such  animals  as  may  be  associated  legiti¬ 
mately  with  the  okapi.  The  fourth  group  will  be  a 
desert  scene,  a  water  hole  with  a  giraffe  drinking 
and  other  animals  standing  by,  awaiting  their  turn. 

In  these  four  corner  groups  we  can  present  the 
four  important  physical  features  of  African  game 
country,  and  they  can  be  supplemented,  of  course, 
by  the  scenes  in  the  thirty-six  other  groups.  The 
large  groups,  however,  give  opportunity  for  particu¬ 
larly  striking  scenic  effects. 

Lack  of  care  in  museum  exhibition  has  come  about 
in  part  at  least  because  of  the  lack  of  permanence  in 
the  specimens  exhibited.  Now  that  we  have  reached 
a  point  in  the  development  of  taxidermy  technique 


A  Section  of  the  “Annex”  Containing  the  Habitat  Groups 

(A)  Floor  of  group  space,  sunk  four  feet  below  the  level  of  hall  floor 
to  permit  of  various  elevations  of  foregroup  in  group.  (B)  Floor 
of  gallery  group  case.  (E)  Glass  roof  of  gallery  group  case.  (F) 
Glass  roof  of  main  floor  group  case. 

(G)  Glass  in  front  of  gallery  case  set  at  angle  to  cut  reflections. 

(H)  Glass  in  main  floor  case.  (I)  Space  occupied  by  bronze 
panels.  (J)  Space  above  gallery  groups  for  artificial  lighting  pur¬ 
poses.  (L)  Plane  of  painted  background. 


259 


260  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

where  we  can  say  without  reservation  that  our  prep 
arations  are  permanent,  permanent  to  a  degree  only 
dreamed  of  within  the  last  twenty  years,  we  feel  justi¬ 
fied  in  taking  extreme  measures  to  insure  the  future 
care  and  preservation  of  these  preparations.  The 
elephants  and  rhinos  can  be  made  as  permanent  as 
bronze  for  endurance  under  all  conditions,  but  the 
other  animal  groups  with  their  backgrounds  and  with 
accessories  necessarily  made  largely  of  wax  cannot 
be  thus  exposed.  That  they  shall  not  suffer  from 
excessive  light  and  from  changing  atmospheric  con¬ 
ditions,  they  will  be  placed  in  two  great  alleyways 
on  either  side  of,  but  practically  outside,  the  hall,  her¬ 
metically  sealed  off  from  the  hall  proper  and  also  from 
the  outside  atmosphere.  Thus  each  group  will  be  abso¬ 
lutely  protected  from  changes  in  temperature  and  hu¬ 
midity.  Each  group  will  be  in  fact  within  an  individ¬ 
ual  compartment,  and  allowed  to  “breathe”  only  the 
air  of  the  alleyway,  which  is  filtered  and  dried  and 
kept  at  a  uniform  temperature  throughout  the  year. 
Artificial  light  will  be  used  for  these  groups. 

The  amount  of  light  required  on  them  will  be  rela¬ 
tively  small  because  of  the  fact  that  they  are  to  be 
viewed  from  a  relatively  dark  central  hall.  We  shall 
be  looking  from  the  hall  into  the  source  of  light 
rather  than  from  the  source  of  light  outward.  Also, 
reflections  can  be  reduced  to  a  minimum  and  practi¬ 
cally  eliminated,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  groups  are 
the  source  of  illumination,  by  having  the  glass  in  the 
front  of  the  case  inclined  at  such  an  angle  that  it  re¬ 
flects  only  the  dark  floor. 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL  261 

‘  In  addition  to  the  forty  groups,  twenty-four  bas- 
relief  panels  in  bronze  (six  by  eleven  feet  each)  are 
planned  as  a  frieze  just  above  the  floor  groups  and 
along  the  balcony  to  form  a  series  around  the  entire 
lower  floor,  becoming  a  part  of  the  architectural 
decoration  of  the  hall.  The  sculpture  of  each  panel 
will  tell  the  story  of  some  native  tribe  and  its  relations 

to  the  animal  life  of  Africa. 

For  instance,  one  panel  will  show  a  Dorobo  fam¬ 
ily,  the  man  skinning  a  dead  antelope  brought  in 
from  the  forest  to  his  hut,  where  are  his  wife  and 
babies  and  two  hunting  dogs,  their  only  domestic 
animals.  A  further  interest  in  animal  life  will  be 
revealed  in  the  presence  of  the  dead  antelope  as  it  is 
a  source  of  food  and  clothing,  for  these  people  live 
entirely  by  hunting.  Another  panel  may  show  a 
group  in  Somaliland  with  camels,  sheep,  goats, 
cattle,  and  ponies  at  a  water  hole,  domestic  beasts 
furnishing  the  interest  in  animal  life.  Still  another 
panel  completing  the  Somali  story  will  represent  a 
group  of  Midgans  in  some  characteristic  hunting 
scene.  While  each  of  these  panels  should  be  a  care¬ 
ful  and  scientifically  accurate  study  of  the  people 
and  their  customs,  accurate  in  detail  as  to  clothing, 
ornaments,  and  weapons,  the  theme  running  through 
the  whole  series  should  be  the  relationship  of  the 
people  to  animal  life. 

If  an  exhibition  hall  is  to  approach  the  ideal,  its 
plan  must  be  that  of  a  master  mind,  while  in  actuality 
it  is  the  product  of  the  correlation  of  many  minds 
and  hands.  In  all  the  museums  of  the  world  to-day 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

there  are  few  halls  that  reveal  a  mastering  idea  and 
an  interdependence  of  arts  and  crafts.  Adminis¬ 
trations  change.  One  man's  aim  is  replaced  by  an 
aim  entirely  different  when  another  undertakes  his 
work.  The  institution's  inheritance  of  exhibits  must 
usually  be  housed  along  with  the  new.  Recently 
acquired  specimens,  satisfactorily  mounted,  are 
crowded  in  inadequate  space  and  completely  subor¬ 
dinate  those  specimens  which,  although  they  are  of 
equal  importance  for  the  understanding  of  the  specta¬ 
tor,  give  no  illusion  of  life  and  have  no  appeal.  Even 
when  the  architectural  arrangement  is  good  and  the 
(taxidermy  acceptable,  a  heterogenous  collection  of 
exhibition  cases  or  an  inadequate  lighting  system 
may  mar  the  harmony  of  the  whole.  Thus,  there  are 
plentiful  opportunities  in  the  meandering  process, 
of  which  an  exhibition  hall  is  frequently  the  result, 
for  the  original  plan  to  become  fogged. 

But  no  such  conditions  shall  spoil  the  symmetry 
of  Roosevelt  African  Hall.  Every  animal  killed  has 
been  carefully  selected  with  this  great  exhibit  in 
mind.  Each  group  mounted  is  being  constructed  as 
an  integral  part  of  the  whole.  A  building  has  been 
especially  designed  to  give  the  exhibit  the  most  ef¬ 
fective  and  appropriate  setting.  And  the  future 
is  being  insured  by  the  training  of  men  who  shall 
carry  forward  the  technique  so  far  developed.  Each 
man  is  carefully  chosen.  Each  must  have  energy, 
common  sense,  a  special  ability,  and  a  great  love 
for  the  duties  at  hand.  And  although  each  may  be  a 
specialist  in  his  own  line,  all  are  forming  the  habit 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL  263 

of  working  together  as  day  by  day  they  assemble  the 
carefully  tanned  skins,  the  clean,  well-shaped  mani¬ 
kins,  the  silk  and  wax  leaves  and  grasses,  and  the 
painted  canvases  for  the  backgrounds.  For  the  first 
time  we  have  the  opportunity  to  train  a  group  of  men 
not  only  to  practise  the  various  arts  which  are  com¬ 
bined  in  making  modern  zoological  exhibits,  but  also 
to  further  develop  the  methods  that  make  this  sort 
of  museum  exhibition  worth  while  from  the  scientific 
and  artistic  standpoint.  In  this  considerable  corps  of 
men  I  am  resting  my  hope  that  the  technique  of  my 
studio  shall  be  carried  on  to  higher  perfection  in¬ 
stead  of  scattering  or  being  carried  underground 
when  my  part  shall  be  done.  This  is  important  not 
only  for  Africa,  but  for  all  other  continents  as  well, 
inasmuch  as  we  are  making  records  of  rapidly  disap¬ 
pearing  animal  life.  From  my  point  of  view,  this 
school  of  workers  is  perhaps  the  most  important  of 
all  the  results  of  the  work  on  Roosevelt  African  Hall. 

Every  group  in  Roosevelt  African  Hall  must  be 
made  by  the  men  who  make  the  studies  in  Africa  so 
that  the  selection  of  environment,  the  background, 
and  the  story  to  be  told  shall  be  typical  and  so  that 
every  detail  of  accessory  or  background  shall  be  scien¬ 
tifically  accurate.  It  was  formerly  the  custom,  and  is 
still  in  many  museums,  to  send  hunters  into  the  field 
to  kill  animals  and  to  send  the  skins  back  to  the 
museum  where  a  taxidermist  mounts  them.  The 
taxidermist  does  not  know  the  animals.  He  has  no 
proper  measurements  for  them.  Usually  the  hunter 
does  not  supply  them  and,  even  if  he  does,  they  are 


IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 


264 

of  little  value;  for  one  man’s  measurements  are  not 
often  reliable  guides  for  another  man  to  work  by. 
In  making  a  group  as  it  really  should  be  done,  we 
cannot  rely  on  one  man  out  in  the  field  to  shoot  and 
another  back  at  the  museum  to  mount.  The  men 
who  study  the  animal  and  who  shoot  him  must  come 
back  and  mount  him,  and  the  men  who  make  the 
accessories  and  who  paint  the  background  must  go 
and  make  their  studies  on  the  spot.  When  all  this 
is  done  the  cost  of  the  skins,  instead  of  being  half  the 
expense  of  a  group,  is  not  five  per  cent. 

I  shall  make  the  gorilla  group,  on  which  I  am  now 
at  work,  a  real  example  of  the  proper  method.  A  go¬ 
rilla  group  undertaken  three  years  ago  in  the  average 
museum  would  have  been  done  in  the  following  man¬ 
ner.  Skins  would  have  been  purchased  from  hunters 
in  Africa.  The  men  who  were  going  to  mount  them 
would  have  studied  the  available  writings  on  gorillas. 
They  would  have  found  out  that  the  gorilla  was  a 
ferocious  animal  who  inhabited  the  dense  forests 
and,  like  as  not,  that  he  lived  in  trees  most  of  the 
time.  And  that  is  the  kind  of  animal  the  group  would 
have  shown. 

Not  satisfied  with  such  a  method,  I  went  to  Africa 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  gorilla  in  his  home.  I 
found  him  in  a  country  of  marvellous  beauty,  spending 
much  of  his  time  in  the  open  forests  or  in  the  sun¬ 
shine  of  the  hillsides.  I  found,  too,  that  he  was 
neither  ferocious  nor  in  the  habit  of  living  in  trees. 
He  can  climb  a  tree  just  as  a  man  can  climb  a  tree, 
but  a  group  of  human  beings  up  a  tree  would  be. 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL  265 

as  natural  as  a  gorilla  group  in  the  same  position. 

The  setting  of  the  group  of  five  gorillas  is  to  be 
an  exact  reproduction  of  the  spot  where  the  big 
male  of  Karisimbi  died.  In  mounting  them  I  have 
my  personal  observation,  my  data  and  material  tc 
work  from.  My  own  measurements  are  significant 
and  helpful.  I  have  photographs  of  the  scenery, 
the  setting,  and  the  gorillas  themselves.  I  have 
photographs  of  their  faces — not  distorted  to  make 
them  hideous  but  as  they  naturally  were — and  death 
masks  which  make  a  record  that  enables  me  to  make 
the  face  of  each  gorilla  mounted  a  portrait  of  an  indi¬ 
vidual.  All  this  makes  these  unlike  any  other  mounted 
gorillas  in  the  world.  After  all  the  work  that  I  had 
put  on  them  I  was  glad  to  get  the  corroboration 
of  one  who  knows  gorillas  as  well  as  T.  Alexander 
Barnes.  He  had  followed  gorillas  in  the  Kivu  coun¬ 
try  where  I  got  my  specimens.  As  he  looked  at 
the  first  of  the  group  standing  in  my  studio,  he  ex¬ 
claimed,  “Well,  thank  God!  At  last  one  has  been 
mounted  that  looks  like  a  gorilla.,, 

Still  with  all  our  work  we  are  only  well  started 
on  the  gorilla  group.  The  background — and  it  is 
a  beautiful  scene — must  be  painted  by  as  great  an 
artist  as  we  can  get  and  he  must  go  to  Karisimbi 
to  make  his  studies.  And  the  preparators  who  make 
the  accessories — the  artificial  leaves,  trees,  and 
grasses — they,  too,  must  go  to  examine  the  spot  and 
collect  their  data,  for  every  leaf  and  every  tree  and 
every  blade  of  grass  must  be  a  true  and  faithful  copy 
of  nature.  Otherwise,  the  exhibit  is  a  lie  and  it  would 


266  IN  BRIGHTEST  AFRICA 

be  nothing  short  of  a  crime  to  place  it  in  one  of  the 
leading  educational  institutions  of  the  country. 

But,  someone  will  say,  this  is  all  in  the  future. 
What  has  already  been  accomplished?  What  defi¬ 
nitely  is  the  status  of  Roosevelt  African  Hall?  : 

Well,  I  am  mounting  animals.  The  elephant  group, 
the  white  rhinoceroses,  and  one  of  the  okapi  are 
completed  and  are  now  on  exhibition.  Work  on  the 
gorilla  group  is  advancing  rapidly.  There  are  already 
collected  and  awaiting  their  turn  to  be  mounted 
materials  for  a  black  rhino  group  and  a  lion  group.  I 
have  estimated  that  it  will  require  at  least  ten  years 
and  the  expenditure  of  one  million  dollars  to  complete 
the  work.  And  there  is  good  reason  to  hope  that  the 
money  needed  will  be  provided.  President  Henry 
Fairfield  Osborn  in  his  Annual  Report  of  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History  for  1922  has  called  for 
a  gift  or  a  special  endowment  of  one  million  dollars  to 
finance  and  develop  Roosevelt  African  Hall  in  addi¬ 
tion  to  other  funds  now  available,  stressing  this  as  the 
most  pressing  need  of  the  Museum  in  the  year  1923. 
The  income  from  such  a  special  endowment  will 
enable  us  to  complete  the  African  Hall  during  the 
next  decade  and  leave  a  million  dollars  of  the  new 
special  endowment  for  the  development  of  the  new 
building  to  house  the  hall. 

I  am  hopeful,  too,  that  the  Roosevelt  Memorial 
Hall,  out  of  which  Roosevelt  African  Hall  will  open,  is 
about  to  become  a  reality.  The  New  York  State 
Legislature  will  soon  have  before  it  a  bill  to  appro¬ 
priate  two  and  one  half  million  dollars  for  a  memorial 


ROOSEVELT  AFRICAN  HALL  267 

to  New  York’s  great  citizen.  Such  a  building  is  one 
of  two  plans  for  this  memorial  now  under  considera¬ 
tion  by  the  State  Roosevelt  Memorial  Commission 
and  there  is  much  reason  to  hope  that  it  may  be  fa¬ 
vourably  received  by  the  people  of  the  state. 

I  ought  not  properly  to  be  writing  autobiographical 
matter.  That  is  usually  a  sign  that  a  man  is  through 
and  the  truth  is  that  I  am  just  ready  to  begin  my 
work.  So  far  I  have  been  studying  my  profession. 
Now  I  am  prepared  to  practise  it  on  one  great  example 
and  in  so  doing  to  train  men  to  continue  my  work  so 
that  the  museums  of  this  country  can  portray  what¬ 
ever  of  animal  life  they  desire  in  a  way  that  will  have 
the  greatest  attraction  and  instruction  for  the  public, 
both  lay  and  scientific.  It  is  chiefly  in  the  hope  of 
furthering  that  great  project  which  must  be  under¬ 
taken  now — a  project  to  put  into  permanent  and  ar¬ 
tistic  form  a  complete  record  of  the  fast-disappearing 
animal  life  of  the  last  stronghold  of  the  Age  of  Mam¬ 
mals — that  I  write  these  things.  Enough  has  been 
said  to  indicate  that  this  is  not  one  man’s  task.  It 
may  not  even  be  accomplished  by  several  men  in  the 
span  of  one  man’s  life.  But  the  future  will  show  con¬ 
crete  results,  for  the  slowest  and  most  laborious 
stages  of  preparation  are  now  in  the  past.  Years  of 
experimentat  on  have  perfected  taxidermy,  years  of 
observation  in  the  field  have  made  a  true  conception 
possible,  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History 
has  committed  itself  to  the  plan — in  a  word,  I  am 
about  to  realize  my  dream. 

THE  END 


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